


The Weight of a Human Heart

by 4b4the22



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Side Magnolia/Piper, Sleepwalking, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4b4the22/pseuds/4b4the22
Summary: Years ago, Valentine had wandered out into the night forgetting who he was and stumbled across a thief, whom he saved from the Diamond City jail. Now that thief has grown into a mercenary who insists he owes Valentine a service, even if repaying it involves following a secretive vault dweller and reckless reporter across the wasteland on a dangerous quest for redemption.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as a series of drabbles that I hadn't intended to post but as they all started to connect into a full story I decided to finish the thing. This fic was originally going to be focused on Valentine/MacCready but I had way too much fun writing Piper and the SoSu so now both ships receive equal attention throughout the story, with each of the four main characters alternating as pov. I know two ships is hard to focus on but a large part of this story is centered on the platonic friendships between all four characters (particularly Piper and Valentine) so I couldn't actually separate the two. I have this whole fic planned out and I have written the first ten chapters of it so hopefully I'll be able to update it on a consistent basis (school and work permitting). Despite the "explicit" rating, I probably won't put that many sex scenes in this fic. The label is more for gore and general dark themes so please keep an eye on the tags and let me know if you notice other potential triggers that I don't have up there (I will be adding more as I update the fic).

Valentine took the seat at the far end of the bar, the one closest to the door. This was strategic. Every move he would make was strategic, this night having been the result of weeks of planning and sleepless nights locked away in his office. 

 

He’d chosen this spot because it allowed him to see clearly out across the entire pub while simultaneously remaining close to the exit. The downside of it was that he was hit in the back by a cold blast of November wind each time the front door was opened. Thankfully, the pub was still stuffy enough to make him sweat; the air inside of it kept hot by too many bodies occupying too small of a space and the thick haze of cigar smoke that hung in the air like a blanket. 

 

This pub was a real dive, the sort where the drink glasses were permanently smudged and the beer was watered down and warm. Despite this, however, the place was still packed with men in expensive-looking pinstripe suits who spoke infrequently to one another in impersonal and hushed tones, leaving the atmosphere of the room a quiet and tense sort hum. 

 

Valentine glanced upwards from under the wide brim of his fedora, letting his gaze drift quickly across the bar, from the table where O’Donnel and his buyers sat all the way to the staff door at the back. It was through this door that they would surely attempt their escape once shit hit the fan, Valentine was counting on it. 

 

O’Donnel was a real piece of work. The man liked to fancy himself a real crime boss, however Valentine knew none of the men here tonight were actually in his pockets. He had no real power in the crime world, being hardly a rung above the common bank robber, yet he’d still been a hassle to catch and a real pain in Valentine's ass.

 

O’Donnel and his wife were both old money; the spoiled offspring of the wealthy businessmen who sat at the very top of the Chicago social hierarchy. They’d given their children everything money could buy, aside from attention, and now these entitled, lazy, prep-school brats passed their time playing criminal for fun, making a game out of supporting local bank robberies completely secure in the knowledge that justice rarely reached the tops of their highrises. 

 

Up until recently, the only thing Valentine had known for certain was that the O’Donnels were paying large amounts of money to local street gangs, likely to entice them to commit robberies so that the twenty-seven year old Mr O’Donnel could feel like one of those film noir crime bosses he so idealized. It was a hard crime to convict anyone for, especially given that the only evidence he had to go on was a tip off from a local drug dealer who’d claimed to have seen Mrs. O’Donnel give his boss a wad of cash and the name of a bank to be hit. It was a vague story, one that Valentine’s bosses had immediately dismissed. It had too many holes, first and foremost being that the bank in question was partially owned by the O’Donnel family. 

 

Valentine, on the other hand, had believed it. He’d never trusted O’Donnel and could easily believe that the man might just be stupid enough to steal from his own family. It wasn’t as though the kid was spotless either. O’Donnel had a sizeable record: a long list of petty crime charges that his parents had bailed him out of time and time again. It had never sat right with Valentine, that these bored rich kids could walk free while the police incarcerated hundreds of poorer folk for nothing more than possessing a couple mentats. 

 

Still, he hadn't been able to pursue the case without additional evidence and had been forced to drop it, letting the file collect dust in his desk drawer while O’Donnel drove his daddy’s yacht around on some Caribbean beach. He’d figured it would remain there forever, that is until O’Donnel and his wife had stupidly decided to hit another target. 

 

The two had organized and funded the robbery of a local jewelry store and, although they weren't present at the crime scene itself, the robbers were seen escaping in a car that looked almost identical to O’Donnel’s gold rimmed Jaguar, as if there were many others like it. The two morons hadn’t even taken off the licence plate.

 

Last night Valentine had gone to interrogate the wife. He’d almost felt bad for the poor girl, who was only twenty-two and had married into the O’Donnel family fresh out of private school. She had confessed on site, bawling her eyes out claiming she'd only been following her husband's wishes. Perhaps it was true, though Valentine doubted she was completely innocent in the whole affair. She would stand trial alongside him and he could only hope justice would prevail. 

 

With her confession, all that was left to do was catch O’Donnel himself. He’d disappeared after the heist but Valentine knew he'd try and sell the gems to an organization of higher repute before completely skipping town. Probably not the Italians, they didn’t usually involve themselves with amateurs. Valentine’s best guess was the Irish, as the O’Donnel family had some kin among their mob bosses. All that had been left to do was find out where the deal was taking place and they were running out of time so he’d gone with his gut feeling and chosen this pub.

 

He’d chosen well. O’Donnel was now in front of him, clear as day, having a long talk with a group of men in suits, completely oblivious to Valentine’s presence. Next to him, he was carrying a leather briefcase that was no doubt full of stolen gems. Now all Valentine had to do was wait till O’Donnel made the exchange so he could prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this man had been directly involved with the robbery. Once that suitcase was opened, Valentine would give the signal for his men to enter position to make the arrest.

 

Valentine's hands curled around his glass of whiskey while he waited. He was taking his time with the drink, wanting to stay as sober as he could while on the job. He wished O’Donnel would hurry up, knowing full well Jennifer would stay up waiting for him until he got home.

 

The woman deserved better than him, he thought while taking another slow swig. He was ugly for one thing, almost twice her age with and with a rather dull face. Of course, he knew she wasn’t shallow but he still felt like she could’ve easily found herself a more attractive man who actually came home in time for her. He'd been on the case for over a week, staying in his office until the early hours of the morning while she ate supper alone. Valentine hoped that one day she would never have to wait again.

 

He ran his hand along the band of his engagement ring. It was a little too tight and his skin had chafed underneath it, sometimes bleeding when he wore it while gripping his pistol, but he didn't have the heart to buy a replacement after she’d spent so much on it. He’d get the thing widened once they had a bit more cash but he figured he wouldn’t mind if the ring left a scar. Jennifer meant more to him that a bit of skin on his hand anyway.

 

O’Donnel finally quit stalling his clients and pulled out his case. Valentine watched carefully over the brim of his glass, trying not to look too suspicious. The lid of the case was lifted slightly and Valentine caught the unmistakable shimmer of gemstones. He smiled slightly to himself; he’d been right all along. He placed the glass down before turning his head around and tipping his hat at the other disguised cop smoking by the door. Time to make their move.

 

They had two cars blocking the back alley and another by the front door. O’Donnel would predictably start running the second he saw the cops and nobody in this bar had enough loyalty towards him to defend him. He’d run out into the alley and right into an open pair of handcuffs. Then Valentine could finally go home.

 

Valentine and the other cop made their way over to O’Donnel, walking towards him purposefully with their hands moving towards the hilt of their guns. As they approached, all the men at the table started to stiffen with discomfort. O’Donnel looked up at Valentine with such horror that he looked like he might shit his pants. Game over.

 

“O’Donnel, you're under arr–” Valentine began but he was suddenly cut off by a gunshot and a crash as the old stained-glass bar window was shattered by a bullet. O’Donnel then collapsed onto the table, blood pooling out of a .44 bullet hole in the side of his thick skull.

 

Peering out into the darkness through the shattered hole in the glass, Valentine caught a glimpse of the characteristic dark van belonging to none other than Eddie Winter. So he'd planned to take out O’Donnel all along, that sneaky bastard.

 

“Stay and arrest these fuckers!” Valentine shouted to his partner before sprinting out of the bar as fast as his legs could carry him.

 

The car was already speeding away as he approached, tires screeching painfully against the asphalt, but Valentine chased it anyway, sprinting down the dark streets of Chicago in vain pursuit of his nemesis.

 

It got darker and darker as he ran, the streets, sidewalks and skyscrapers blurring into a formless tunnel that ended in Winter’s car.

 

Still Valentine ran, desperate to catch him, desperate to get back to Jennifer with that fuckers head.

 

He slammed into something and the vision went dark.

 

* * *

 

Valentine and the figure he’d collided with both fell over onto their asses from the force of the impact. It took only mere seconds for Valentine’s synth brain to process that he was back in Diamond City. Winter was gone, Chicago was in ruin miles away, and the hand that Jennifer’s ring had once cut into was now only a sharp steel skeleton. 

 

Valentine recovered from the crash almost immediately, his systems coming back online and beginning to evaluate the situation he was in. He’d bumped into a man, no, a boy in his late teens. The kid was much slower to react, rubbing his head and moaning as he blinked his eyes open, squinting slightly from dizziness.

 

For some strange reason, Valentine instinctively grabbed hold of the boy by the arm before he could wake up completely. 

 

The movement shocked the boy, who tried to scramble away, flailing uselessly against Valentine's mechanical strength. “Fu– let go of me you–” he began to shout angrily before realizing what exactly was holding onto him. Then his bright blue eyes widened in terror at the sight of the synth, and he inhaled sharply, mute with panic as he tried to shake Valentine of of him.

 

Valentine wasn’t surprised by this sort of reaction, given the institute’s reputation around here as well as the fact that he had grabbed the kid. Still, he couldn't make himself let go. He needed to asses the situation, the processors in his head still whizzing painfully as they tried figure out why this kid had crashed into him in the first place. He went into detective mode and time slowed down.

 

Firstly, he needed to know how he’d gotten outside and ended up in some back alley of Diamond City blocks from his agency in the first place. He couldn’t remember the exact details of his earlier vision, but he knew they’d been memories of the old Nick’s. A dream of sorts, although being a synth he didn't actually require sleep. On a rare occasion though, he would power down, not because it was necessary for his functioning but because it was a way to pass the time when the rest of the world is inactive. 

 

That’s what he’d done tonight, although he wasn’t supposed to dream during the process and he’d certainly never sleepwalked before. No wait, there had been another time. He thought back to about a week ago where he was certain he'd powered down in his bed only to wake up back at his desk with an incomprehensible mess of files spread out in front of him. At the time he’d dismissed it as a minor glitch, not uncommon considering he didn’t exactly take proper care of his systems. Now though, he was beginning to remember even more events like this; dreams which resulted in actions he had no memory of performing. 

 

It was all deeply troubling. He wasn’t supposed to dream at all, let alone sleepwalk. He’d need to run a diagnostic on himself later. 

 

The second mystery about this situation was the kid himself, more specifically: why a boy Valentine had never seen before had run into him this late at night anyway? The boy didn't look yet out of his teens and on top of that he was painfully thin and had a young-looking face. This kid looked so weak that Valentine worried his metal hand might break one of his small wrists in two. A boy this small had no business being out so late.

 

Based on how hard they’d slammed into each other, Valentine concluded that the kid must’ve been running straight at him and fast. His programming was technically capable of calculating the exact angle and velocity of the collision but Valentine decided that was irrelevant. Suffice to say that the kid was running away from something. Nobody slams into someone with that amount of force unless they’re looking over their shoulder.

 

The next question, of course, was what exactly the kid was running from. They were in the middle of Diamond City and Valentine knew these streets almost as well as he knew the circuitry on the back of his right hand. One thing he knew for a fact was that there wasn't anything in the area that would’ve had any reason to chase a total stranger, let alone a kid. No raider gangs, no vicious stray animals, no ghouls or monsters. Anything like that would've been caught by the wall or by security. 

 

Which could only mean that the boy was running from security itself.

 

“Please, God, let me go!” The kid pleaded, squirming in Valentine's grasp and breaking him out of his reverie. Valentine glanced down to see something gold was shimmering in the boy’s hand.

Then Valentine heard the loud, armoured footsteps of Diamond City security guards coming from around the corner. The boy must’ve heard them too because he squirmed harder, jerking away from Valentine so forcefully that his wrist cracked slightly.

 

Still Valentine didn't let go. The kid was a thief, no doubt about it. Valentine could’ve guessed it even without glimpsing the gold watch in his hand.

 

The boy looked up at him, his blue eyes wide with panic and desperation. He had begun to cry, sloppy wet tears pooling down his flushed cheeks.

 

It stirred something in Valentine. Shit, what was he thinking? A criminal? For fuck’s sake this was a child! He berated himself for being so heartless. The kid had no weapon, hardly any clothes, and was barely old enough to drink. 

The fearful expression on the boy’s face brought back a memory of the old Nick’s. It was the same sort of look he used to see on the young gang members he'd had to arrest back in the day, the sort who’d fallen to crime because they needed it to live or because it was all they'd ever known. Valentine had never felt right arresting those kids. They needed a school, not a jail.

 

But he wasn't Nick the cop anymore and he didn't have to arrest this kid, certainly not in a city as corrupt as this one. He could give him a chance. He could make his own justice.

 

The security guards rounded the corner and Valentine stepped in front of the boy.

 

“Ah, Valentine, it seems you've caught our thief,” the first guard said, gesturing towards the kid, “caught him sneaking around the upper stands and he sprinted away the moment we approached. Thought he was being real sneaky.”

 

Good, they didn’t have any proof. Valentine had to make up something quickly. Thank goodness his processors didn’t often hesitate. “This kid? A thief?” he said with a forced laugh, “I hate to break it to you but there’s been a misunderstanding here. You see, he's working for me.” He was thankful his synthetic face showed so little emotion, as the old Nick had never been much of a liar.

 

Although the guard’s face was obscured by a mask, Valentine could tell he was skeptical, “he looked like a fucking thief if I ever saw one…” the guard said doubtfully.

 

“Well unfortunately, that's just the boy’s look, poor kid,” Valentine explained with a shake of his head. It was a terrible excuse but he said it with complete confidence, his silicone gen 1 face masking his own internal panic, “you see, I was trying to catch a rather elusive psycho dealer in the area, but I couldn't risk staking the place out myself, seeing as how every crook from here to the Capital can recognize this ugly mug. Thought I might give the boy a chance to earn a couple caps. Unfortunately he’s rather jittery.”

 

The guards laughed at his self-deprecation, seeming convinced by the lie and, for the first time ever, Valentine was glad the security in Diamond City was so poorly trained. “You're going to put us out of a job at this rate, Nick,” the first guard teased. Valentine was beginning to recognize his voice: he'd helped this particular guard a while back in tracking down an heirloom pistol he'd lost while drunk. No wonder he was so easily fooled. “We won't intrude anymore on your work though,” the guard continued, “just let us know when you need us to arrest the dealer.”

 

Valentine smiled as genuinely as he could at them, “will do.” The guards waved as the left and Valentine waved back, still keeping a firm hold of the boy's arm.

 

It wasn't until they were completely out of earshot that the kid finally spoke again.

 

“Please listen,” he begged, his voice still shaky and frantic. Valentine turned to look at him, wondering how the guards hadn't found the kids panicked look and tear-covered face more suspicious, “I'm worthless to the institute, I swear it, I'm nobody! You can't take me, please, you can't!”

 

“Shh shh,” Valentine hushed him, loosening his grip slightly, “listen kid, I'm not with the institute, okay, I'm just your average concerned citizen, wondering where exactly you got that fancy looking pocket watch of yours?” He nodded towards the boy’s hand.

 

The boy winced guiltily, though his fear seemed to have died down slightly. He glanced down at the gold chain in his pocket sheepishly. Deciding that he probably wouldn't run, Valentine finally let go of his arm. The kid rubbed his wrist slightly, his eyes glued warily to Valentine’s metal hand. He lifted his gaze upwards but when he caught the glow of Valentine’s eyes he quickly averted it again, glancing back down the alley after the guards. “You know I stole it,” he mumbled after a moment, “you could've just told them.”

 

Valentine nodded in agreement. He certainly could've told them. Had this boy been a raider, or even a few years older, he probably would've but this kid seemed far too delicate for the Diamond City jail. He wouldn't have felt right about it. “What's your name kid?” He asked, using his freed hands to light a cigarette.

 

The boy hesitated a moment before answering, “MacCready. Well, my first name’s Robert.” From the way he phrased it, Valentine got the sense that MacCready preferred his last name.

 

“And how old are you MacCready?” He continued, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.

 

“Nineteen,” he replied, watching the smoke from the cigarette waft out of Valentine’s neck with discomfort. He looked younger than that, though he was still only a teenager. Valentine knew most kids in the commonwealth were forced to grow up faster than they had back in the days before the war but this boy still seemed like a kid to him. 

 

“Who did you steal from?”

 

Macready looked very confused by all this, clearly still unsettled by Valentine's physical appearance and wary of this apparent mercy. “Some house up near the Colonial Taphouse, um the one just left of it I think. It was unlocked. I don't know the owners. I'm really sorry shi– I mean, shoot, I shouldn't’ve done that, I mean, it wasn’t right...” although he fumbled for an excuse, his guilt seemed genuine. 

 

“Listen kid,” Valentine interrupted him, “I'm sure you had your reasons but I'm afraid I can't let you completely off the hook.”

 

That fear was back again, “no, wait, please!” MacCready said, stuttering even harder, “I'll bring it back, okay? I'll leave it under the door and I'll get out of town! I swear it! Just... Please! I can't go to jail!”

 

Valentine let him finish the time, watching him carefully and taking note of each word he said. He got the immediate sense that this kid owed money somehow. His panic, his visible shame, it wasn't characteristic of a petty thief or someone who stole for the sake of personal gain. Not a rare case, but still it still made Valentine more certain that he’d done the right thing in sparing the boy.

 

“Alright kid, I'll make you a deal,” Valentine said, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and tossing it onto the ground where it extinguished in the wet mud, “I'll give you 240 caps for the watch, more than you'd probably get anywhere else. I'll return it to its owner and tell her I found it in the marketplace. Then you'll leave Diamond City for good.” He fumbled around in his pocket for his rolls of caps, calculating the amount quickly and handing them over to MacCready.

 

Macready eyed his outstretched hand in complete shock, “you'd pay me?” He asked, “like you'd actually pay me for stealing? Is this a trick?”

 

“No trick kid. We all have lapses in judgement. I’m just giving you a chance to make an honest life for yourself.”

 

MacCready handed him the watch, then reached out to take the caps but he hesitated and pulled his hand back again, “I'm sorry,  I'm not sure I can promise that,” he said softly, hanging his head in shame, “I mean, shoot, what honest work is even out there for me? I'm not a farmer and I could hardly make much of a guard–” his face was becoming redder with each passing second, clearly struggling to make sense of this offer.

 

Valentine understood what he meant. Honest work wasn't always possible in this world. He forgot that sometimes. “Take the caps anyway,” he insisted, “and all I ask is that you try.”

 

MacCready took the caps and finally looked up to meet Valentine’s eyes, “I owe you,” he said very seriously, “ not just for the caps. You saved my ass from jail!” His face was suddenly full of determination, “listen,” he continued, “I don't know much about honest work, but give me time to get settled in the Commonwealth and I'll come back and repay you, okay. Not just in caps. I owe you a favour.”

 

“You don't owe me a damn thing,” Valentine replied, chuckling slightly at the kid’s drive, “I'm doing this because I believe in second chances, not because I want a favour.”

 

MacCready shook his head, “that's not good enough!” He said, clearly thinking very hard about all this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, wrapped in cloth. He placed it into Valentine’s hand and took the money. “This is so you know I’m serious,” he explained, “I won't leave the Commonwealth without getting that back, so I’ll have to come back and help you. Give me time, I'll repay you.”

 

“Shit, kid I was just doing the right thing, I don't need this,” Valentine said, though he closed his hand around the object anyway.

 

MacCready shook his head harder and insisted, “nobody would do anything like that for me. Nobody out here. I'm a thief and you know it. I shouldn't be taking your money at all. ”

 

“You're just a kid. It happens. You really don't owe me a thing.” Had this kid never heard of a favour?

 

“I can't take this then,” MacCready said, handing back the money, “it's not right.”

 

Valentine sighed, pushing his hand away. There was no fighting with this one, the boy was stubborn. “Keep the money. If it means so much to you then. I'll keep this until you come to get it.” 

 

“Promise you won't throw it away?” MacCready asked warily.

 

“You have my word.”

 

MacCready smiled at him, then started to giggle, “shi– I mean, shoot, I really didn't think the first person to not treat me like crap in this place would be a robot. Um, no offence, of course, just, there's so many stories about synths, that you either attack folks or replace em, but I never heard of any who help people. You’re sorta like one of those comic book superheroes, y’know?”

 

“Like I said kid, I’m just a concerned citizen.” Valentine said, though corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly in amusement.

 

“If you say so,” MacCready said with a shrug, clearing unconvinced, “what's your name anyway?”

 

“Nick Valentine, private-eye,” Valentine introduced himself, tilting his hat. 

 

From the look on MacCready's face, Valentine could tell he'd never heard of a private-eye before. “Well, um, it was good to meet you Nick,” he said, giving him a nod, “till we meet again, yeah?”

 

“Sure Robert, till we meet again.”

 

MacCready gave him one last glance before turning on his heels and walking briskly in the direction of the front gate without looking back. 

 

Valentine opened his hand and glanced down at the watch and the small item MacCready had given him, folded in a dirty piece of cloth. He placed the gold pocket watch in his pocket, deciding he'd return it the next morning. Then he carefully unfolded the small bundle, lifting each corner of the fabric gingerly with his metal hand, worried he might scratch whatever was inside. Inside it was a tiny wooden soldier, hand carved, with the paint slightly faded. Valentine gazed at it for a long time, running his softer thumb over it as gently as he could. He wondered for a moment about it’s significance and he started to try and analyze the gesture before he realized what he was doing and forced himself to stop. This wasn't his mystery to solve.

 

He slid it into his pocket and silently prayed that the boy would survive the wasteland on his own. It wasn't likely. Valentine had helped a lot of people in his time who hadn’t been able to pay him and who’d given him similar promises. To this day only a handful had ever came back. None had ever given him a token before this, though. Maybe the toy soldier was good luck. Valentine could only hope.

 

It had been a strange night all in all. Valentine glanced upwards towards the sky, watching the sun rise over the walls of Diamond City. He stepped on the butt of his discarded cigarette to make sure it was extinguished, then he tucked his hands into his pockets and made his way back to the detective agency. 

  
The matter of the sleepwalking still troubled him and he decided it was best that he avoid powering down for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I just really like writing Valentine's old detective stories)


	2. Chapter 2

Chase did not consider herself to be a very good soldier.

 

Sure she was physically strong and skilled with a gun but those things didn’t make her a true soldier, at least not in the way she thought one should be. She’d always thought true soldiers were the sorts you’d see in old faded photographs from the old wars. 

 

Nora’s great-grandfather was of that sort. In the photos she’d once shown Chase during the visit they’d made to her family home, he had looked exactly how a soldier ought to be: stern-faced, steady and uniformed. Furthermore he had fought for a true cause. He'd taken the fight to Hitler’s doorstep and he’d done what was unquestionably right. He had been noble, heroic, and just. A good soldier for a good war.

 

Even further back than that, Chase could think of better soldiers than she was. She thought of the image of a shining knight who rode on a mighty steed for King and country. The fairytale sort, who trudged across the muddy fields of medieval Europe protecting the weak and bringing justice to wrongdoers.

 

Some sensible part of her knew that there was no such thing as heroic knights, true soldiers or just wars. It was all just stories told in history classes that tried to pretend as though there’d been any true justice in human history. Still, there were at least some soldiers out there who fought for noble morals and Chase simply wasn't one of them.

 

Maybe she'd put on a uniform and maybe she'd fought in the name of her country. Maybe, at some point in time, she’d even been able to take down entire patrols of Chinese soldiers with nothing but her sniper but that didn't make her a good soldier. It only made her a fighter.

 

Back in those days she and her squadron had crawled across war zones more like a pack of wild dogs than human beings. They’d obeyed no one and destroyed everything in their path. There was no true cause for which they’d fought and their only loyalty was to the thrill they got during the heat of battle, where time slowed down and they felt the rush of being so alive and yet, at the same time, so close to death. 

 

Perhaps, in some way, they  _ had _ been the best soldiers for that hideous sort of war. A war over nothing, that no one really understood, and that tore and mutilated the very face of the earth, ripping life from the soil the way a wild dog rips the flesh from a deer.

 

How fitting, it seemed, that she should be tossed back into the war again in this new wasteland she had helped to create. The irony of it almost made her laugh.

 

Chase had naively hoped that it would be difficult for her to return to the thrill of battle. She’d hoped that after so many years of therapy and trying to become a better person she would be able to conduct herself with the nobility and poise she’d envied in those old war soldier, however she was wrong. The rush she’d felt all those years ago hit her like a sudden breath of air as the power armour sealed around her. She had forgotten what it was like to feel this powerful as her body were merged with thick steel.

 

That moment where she’d jumped off the roof of the museum and felt the ground shake under the sheer might of the suit was the first time she’d felt truly awake since she’d woken up in that vault to find her wife dead.

 

Chase felt like she was back in the war again and she was horrified to find that she’d missed it. She stormed through the disfigured streets of what was once Concord, letting all the rage that had been building up inside of her explode from the barrel of her minigun, shredding raiders to lifeless ribbons of flesh. She couldn't even hear herself screaming over the roar of adrenaline in her head but she knew she was.

 

Who could stop her now? Not those suit wearing fuckers in Washington who’d started this bullshit war in the first place nor their pet generals who had hurled slurs at her on the training grounds when she was only 18. Not even those manipulative vault tec employees who'd tricked her into freezing herself. They were all dead, every last one of them, and she was free.

 

The deathclaw lumbered towards her like a tank, it's claws tearing up the brittle asphalt and it's thick skin soaking up her bullets as though they were harmless BBs. Chase had never seen a creature like it before but in her current state of mind it hardly fazed her.

 

“Back up, Chase!” She heard Preston shout from the balcony of the museum but reason had left her and she stood her ground.

 

The beast reared up on its hind legs, letting out a roar and lifting its mighty claw. Still Chase did not flinch. Time slowed down around her. She aimed for its stomach, her finger pressing down on the trigger of her minigun so forcefully that her knuckles turned white chaffed in her armour. The vibrations from gun rattled in her bones, shaking her to her very core. The deathclaw’s belly was weak though, and her bullets battered it and pierced it deep. The beast howled in pain and brought its claw down towards her but it was dead before it could even graze her face. It crashed at her feet with a soft moan.

 

Then she went slack, all the energy leaving her body suddenly as if sucked out of her by a vacuum. She sunk to her knees in shock and horror.

 

God what was she doing? 

 

She felt the tears well in her eyes as it all began to come back to her.

 

She wasn't a soldier anymore and this wasn't a war. Yesterday she had been only a lawyer. A lawyer and a veteran with a nice suburban house and all the luxuries modern technology could provide. And she'd had Nora.

 

She remembered waking up yesterday by her wife’s gentle voice whispering “Chase? Chase, honey, could you check on the baby?” 

 

The light from the window had been as soft as Nora’s voice; the warm light of midday October. It was beautiful. Nora was beautiful. The beams of sunlight that poured in through the window caught the messy loose, strands of her hair, turning auburn brown to gold, just like the leaves outside.

 

She had kissed Nora softly and she'd tasted like morning breath but she smelt like lavender shampoo and it was beautiful, even more beautiful than the October sun could ever hope to be.

 

“I love you,” Chase had told her.

 

“I love you too,” Nora had replied with that pretty little smile of her’s, “but could you please get up and check on Shaun while I get the door?” 

 

Chase had frowned, “can't you do it? I'm not good with babies you know that. He only cries for me.”

 

Nora shook her head, “it's the man from vault-tech, I have to take it. He's here for me.”

 

“Just ignore him,” Chase had said, holding her closer and kissing her cheek, “I say they give that spot up for someone who actually wants to live in the fallout. I'd rather be taken by the bomb.”

 

Nora had scowled at that, “don't talk like that,” she’d scolded, “we're lucky to have this spot at all.”

 

Chase had frowned back, “sure, ‘luck’, that's what we're calling it now?” 

 

Nora had shaken her head in exasperation and rolled off her.

 

“Nora?” Chase had called out, “shit, babe, I'm sorry! I'll check on the baby okay? I promise! Nora?” Her wife kept walking.

 

Yesterday. It was all just yesterday. Only it wasn't yesterday, not really. It was 200 years ago. 200 years since they'd last kissed like that. Since the world had still been warm and bright. 

 

And now Nora was dead, her body still frozen in that vault just waiting for Chase to bury her.

 

Chase reached her hand up to touch to her neck, knowing the two rings still hung there. Despite what Nora had said, she still wished the bomb had taken her. Then she could've died in Nora’s arms under that beautiful October sun and tasted her forever.

 

Instead she was here. A 200 year old relic of a soldier crying softly into a 200 year old relic of pre-war technology.

 

Dogmeat pressed his face in her lap with a whine and she sighed. She forced herself to stand back up and sniff away her tears. She still had a promise to keep. She still had to check on the baby. Shaun was missing, kidnapped by Nora's murderers. She was going to find him, she was going to kill them and then she was going to bury Nora. Then she was going to raise her son, no,  _ their _ son in this shithole of a world she'd helped create. 

 

She took a deep breath and stood up, keeping the power armour on so the others wouldn't be able to see her face as walked back over to meet Preston and the other settlers outside the museum.

 

“That was amazing!” Preston exclaimed when she'd entered, clearly not noticing her current mood, “I've never seen anyone take down ten raiders and a deathclaw before!”

 

“Well the armour helps,” she said dismissively. She didn't like to feel pride over her own violent breakdown. Not that she faulted Preston for it. Actually it was hard to fault Preston for anything at all. Although Chase had only known him a short time, she couldn’t help but like him. He was genuine, trusting, and kind, yet at the same time he was good with a gun. Now that she thought about it, maybe he was the true sort of soldier.

 

“Still, we all owe you our gratitude,” he said reaching out to shake her hand. Dogmeat whined next to her and he added, “and you too Dogmeat,” kneeling down to pet him between the ears. The dog wagged his tail cheerfully.

 

“This is all well and good Preston but we still have to find a place to stay,” Sturges pointed out, “Mama Murphy keeps talking about a ‘sanctuary’ just north of here…”

 

“Oh so we're just going to wander blindly North based on the visions of a Chem addict?” Marcy said bitterly. 

 

“Sanctuary is real,” Chase informed them, forcing her voice to steady, “I just came from there. It's got shelter and it doesn't seem to be full of raiders yet. If you'd like, I can escort you.” She had never liked Sanctuary much before the war, and she certainly wasn't keen on returning to it now, but she figured she ought to at least tell Codsworth where she was going. Besides, Preston and these settlers were the first friendly faces she'd seen since waking up here. She wanted to see them to safety. Better they take care of her old house than a bunch of raiders. Nora would've wanted it that way.

 

“Shit, that's the first good news we've heard since Quincy,” Preston said looking deeply relieved, “alright lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

The travel back to Sanctuary felt quicker than the journey to Concord. Chase kept her gaze focused on the road ahead of her as much as she could, trying not to look at the damaged shell of Massachusetts. It was all so much to take in. Everything was familiar yet at the same time painfully foreign. If she looked at the skyline of Boston for too long she began to feel her knees go weak accompanied by a heavy pain in her heart. Her distress must've been clear to the others since none of them tried to speak to her during their journey, though perhaps they were all too consumed by their own issues to care. 

 

She was almost grateful when the fusion core finally ran out just as they were arriving in Sanctuary. Despite the protection the power armour provided, she hated wearing it. It reminded her too much of the war. More specifically it reminded her too much of the way she had been during the war, before Nora had come along to save her from becoming another degenerate, brute of a soldier, blown to bits in some minefield.

 

The hydraulics hissed as the suit opened and she stepped out, stretching till her back cracked. She wasn't a soldier anymore, she kept telling herself. She was just a lawyer, a veteran, trying to find her wife’s son _. _ Her son now, she supposed, though it was hard to think of Shaun like that. She was doing this for Nora’s sake, not for the boy’s, but she knew that if she didn’t start thinking of him as her son she would never find him.

 

She decided to stay in Sanctuary for at least one more night. The food in the apocalypse was disgusting but she hadn't eaten since she'd woken up and after the fight outside the museum she was starving. All the settlers crowded around a small fire pit, cooking some of the radroach meat she'd gathered back in the vault. The meat was tough, stringy and had a potent sour taste, almost like it had gone bad. It made her gag.

 

“You were right, this place is everything we could've hoped for,” Preston said next to her, the rest of them clearly not bothered by the quality of the food, “is there anything we can do to repay you? We're a little low on caps but we could certainly try and find something.”

 

Chase didn't want caps. She hadn't helped them for money and besides it still felt strange to her to be using bottle caps for money. “All I need is a bit of info,” she said, “my son has gone missing, taken by a man with a scar on his face. Have you seen anyone like that?”

 

Preston looked shocked, “I'm so sorry about that,” he said, his pity so genuine that it made Chase feel almost guilty for telling him, “but no I can't say I have. There's a lot of men with scars out here who might hurt a baby but I can't say I know any by name.” He thought for a moment, clearly wanting to give her something to go on, “perhaps you should check Diamond City?” He suggested, “enough folks pass through there that someone might know something. I have some settlers to help in that area, if you'd like me to walk you to the bridge leading into the city.”

 

Chase forced herself to smile, “yes, thank you. As long as you're not needed here.”

 

“I could defend Sanctuary for the time being, miss Chase,” Codsworth offered, hovering a ways away from the group. Although he didn’t have a face, Chase could tell he was pleased she’d brought him company. If Preston and the others thought it strange that she had her own Mr Handy they didn't ask.

 

“Thanks Codsworth,” Chase said.

 

“I suppose we’ll get going once the sun rises?” Preston asked.

 

Chase nodded. She would've rather left right away but from what she'd seen so far of the Commonwealth, she guessed that travelling during the night was bad news.

 

The settlers carried all the old mattresses out of the houses and brought them into one building. There wasn’t nearly enough beds for everyone but they all insisted Chase take one since she was the one who’d helped them there, after all.

 

Although she accepted the bed to spare their pride, she knew she couldn't sleep. If she’d thought her insomnia had been bad during the war, it was even worse now. She kept her head turned towards the wall, her mind fluttering anxiously as it tried to process this new world. 200 years. She could hardly believe it. At least Nora would never have to see it like this. God Chase missed her so much. Without her wife she hardly felt real, her whole body feeling more like it was floating around in some sort of lonely nightmare.

  
She pressed her face into the old shirt she'd folded up as a pillow and prayed she could keep her sanity long enough to find Shaun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded the second chapter at the same time as the first since it's so short. I spent a lot of time editing both of them but because I skim when I read I have a tendency to miss a lot of small typos. I will come back and try to fix those once I've had some time to come back to this with a fresh mind. If something is glaringly obvious, feel free to mention it in the comments or pm me on my tumblr blog (fuckboyaham) (my deepest apologies for the desktop theme on said blog, it's my fic and fandom blog but I went through a shitposting phase and the theme is a relic of that)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want the wait between the chapters to be this long but unfortunately I've been off and on sick these past couple weeks and that coupled with finals coming up and the sheer length of this chapter set me back quite a lot. This is hopefully the longest chapter I will post, I generally prefer to stick to ~5k words plus or minus a few however this one is close to 12k.  
> I can't promise my updates will be more consistent as I have finals for the next three weeks but hopefully I'll be able to post more frequently once the break starts.  
> Typically I don't write sex stuff in my fic tags I just warn about it at the beginning of the chapter. This one has some sex scenes but they're more alluded to than actually written in detail and they hardly qualify as nsfw.

_ Let's take a moment to talk about family. We’ve all experienced it, or something like it, before. That special bond one forms with another person, whom in spite of their flaws we love or loved unconditionally. Whom we’d do anything to protect. _

 

_ To me, Diamond City is like a family member. Although its flaws run deep, it is still the place that we all call home, and it is meant to protect us from harm and keep us together. _

 

_ That's why it saddens me to know that  _ _ Mayor McDonough _ _ , the elected patriarch of our little community, continues to ignore the fact that our family members are going missing. This City, once loving and safe, has rotted under his leadership. How many more people have to disappear? How much more of our family do we have to lose?  _

 

_ Recent gossip over McDonough– _

 

Piper scratched out “gossip”. It wasn’t the word she wanted. It made it seem like she had no real evidence. She reread the whole text again from top to bottom, jiggling her leg against the desk irritably. Actually, she realized she didn’t actually have any evidence at all. This whole piece was not what she wanted to write. It was just more of the same thing, really: unfounded accusations of corruption that would only serve to bore her readers and drive  McDonough further up her ass. She couldn’t publish this, she respected her medium too much to debase her paper into tabloids.

 

“You know, most people would sit  _ at  _ a desk, not on it,” Valentine pointed out from behind her in his usual dry sarcasm, “Like in a chair? Perhaps one in their own home?”

 

Piper put her paper down and turned to grin at him. “Aw Nicky, don’t tell me you’re already sick of my company?” She teased.

 

“Not at all, Piper, I'd just wish you could take up less of my desk space,” Valentine explained. Piper had no doubt in her mind that he liked having her around. She liked him too, for all her teasing, especially considering he was her only real friend aside from Nat.

 

Although Nat had always described Piper’s friendship with Valentine as “strange”, Piper had never really found it to be so odd. She and Nick shared a similar moral compass and a mutual desire for a safer and more honest Diamond City. That plus they'd both chosen rather isolating professions, nobody really wanting to spend their time with a nosy journalist or psychoanalyzing synth. At the end of the day, they were the only ones who could stand the other’s company.

 

“You have two desks but fine, I'll get off,” Piper said, leaping off the desk onto the floor. “I’m out of inspiration anyway.”

 

“Really? The Great Piper Wright, lost for words? I never thought I'd see the day,” Valentine said with a smirk.

 

“Gosh, detective, you must help me! My beloved muse has disappeared into the night without a trace and I'm simply at a loss without her!” Piper pantomimed, falling into the chair across from his desk and clapping a hand over her forehead in mock despair. “But honestly, Nick,” she continued in a more serious tone, letting her hand fall to her side and staring up at his ceiling, watching one of the fluorescent light bulbs flicker, “it’s been way too quiet around here lately and I'm hesitant to write any more libels, what with Diamond City security’s breathing down my neck.”

 

“ McDonough is pretty furious,” Valentine said very seriously, “if I were you, I'd lay low for a while.”

 

“Yeah but you know me,” Piper pointed out, “I'm going to keep writing till someone beats me to death with my own newspaper and you know it.”

 

Valentine just nodded, though his face was unamused. He had learned not to argue with her on this, though she knew it pained him not to.

 

Piper squinted at her draft for a few more minutes before bunching it up and tossing it into Valentine’s overflowing trash bin.

 

“I take it you're done for the night?” Valentine asked, looking up his case.

 

Piper shrugged, glancing towards the door wondering if she should leave. Nat would be waiting for her at home but she wasn’t keen on going back to her so soon. She was still avoiding her. “Hey, Val?” She asked after a moment. “How about we call it a day and hit the Dugout Inn, huh?”

 

“I've got a case to work on Piper,” he pointed out, “a girl is missing.”

 

“Who?” 

 

“Darla. Her family had been looking for her and I'm going over the evidence they gave me to try to figure out where she might've gotten off to. They think it's a kidnapping but I'm not so sure.”

 

“Oh it definitely wasn't,” Piper said with a laugh, “Listen, inspector, you'd save a lot of time if you just left your office every once and awhile and actually interacted with people. I overheard Vadim mention that a couple nights ago some gang members from Goodneighbor were in town and he noticed Darla had seemed to be sweet on their boss. You'd be better off asking around there.”

 

Valentine gave her a skeptical look, “This better not be some ploy to get me to go out drinking with you.”

 

“On my honour as a journalist,” she assured, placing a hand over her chest in mock salute, “I'd never lie to you Nick, all I want to do is to help my good friend out.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” he said rolling his eyes. “What do you want in return Piper?” He asked, pulling his coat off the back of his chair.

 

“Give me the full report so I can write up about it, plus all your files on unsolved disappearances around Diamond City,” she said with a smirk.

 

“Counter offer: you get to pick one disappearance case plus I give you a lead on some gossip I heard in Goodneighbor and you let me keep Darla’s case between her and her family.” 

 

Piper sighed. Good old Valentine, always trying to keep his client’s lives private. She already knew he was going to scratch out their names on the files before giving them to her. Still it was a good deal. “Fine,” she said, reaching out her hand to shake Valentine's.

 

“Pleasure doing business with you, now let's go checkout Dugout.” Valentine said, unlocking the door for her.

 

* * *

 

Valentine didn't need to drink but Piper did and she bought him a beer anyway because she also preferred not to drink alone. The struggle of having a synth for a best friend.

 

“You're wasting your caps,” Valentine pointed out.

 

“Well then I'll just drink what you don't finish,” she replied. It was a threat. He knew she had a drinking problem. He sighed and drank the beer without further protest. 

 

She’d always wondered where the stuff he ingested went but she’d never asked. It was an unspoken agreement they had that she wouldn't poke around in his life if he didn't try to read her. 

 

Despite this, she was naturally curious and she couldn't help but keep mental note of some of Valentine's quirks. So many of them she found fascinating, such as the way the synth smoked almost compulsively despite the fact that he was immune to addiction. She also remembered small facts about his programing, like how he his tongue was able taste yet he didn't need to eat. Piper kept all these little at the back of her mind even though she knew she shouldn't. It was wrong to pry, especially since she knew that being a synth was a sore spot of Nick’s.

 

Still, she justified herself in the knowledge that  Nick was probably doing the same thing, storing little facts about her in that head of his. She wouldn’t have even been surprised if she found out he kept a file about her. Even if he never said anything, she knew he wanted her to quit drinking. He worried about her. 

 

He drank downed the whole beer in one go, dumping its contents into the mysterious void of his stomach. Vadim laughed when he noticed and started chanting “Chug! Chug! Chug!” Expecting others to join in but no one did.

 

Piper laughed with him though. “Alright, Vadim how about another round for the party-bot?”

 

Valentine shook his head, “Vadim if you let this girl waste any more caps on me I'll personally write and publish a report about the sanitation levels of this establishment.”

 

“Oh, like there's anywhere else to get shitfaced in this city,” Piper dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

 

“Eh, don't worry Nick,” Vadim said, “I'm not about to let any more good beer go to waste.”

 

“Thank, Bobrov, you're a real gentleman,” Valentine said, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. “Now, would you mind answering a few questions for me? Miss Wright seems to be forgetting we're here on business.”

 

Vadim gave them a suspicious look. “That all depends on the questions, Nick, I mean you've helped me out before but I don't really want my name in any newspapers…”

 

Piper sighed. She tried not to let it get to her but the way people were always so quickly on edge around her irked her a little. Aside from Nick, it felt like there was a wall separating her from everyone in Diamond City. Still, after all the gossip she’d printed, they were perhaps right not to trust her. “Don't worry Vadim,” she assured him, “this isn't about you. He's just trying to find that Darla kid, her parents are looking for her you mentioned she'd passed through here.”

 

Vadim nodded, thankfully unconcerned that she’d eavesdropped on him before. Perhaps he knew how loudly he tended to speak. “Yep.That’s right. Saw her a week ago with one of those gangs, not the raiders but the Goodneighbor ones in the suits. Big scary fellas but lots of caps. She seemed to be friendly on the boss, a very big man with real funny name–”

 

“Skinny Malone?” Valentine asked.

 

“That is the one! He’s not nearly that skinny though.” 

 

“You know the guy?” Piper asked turning to Nick.

 

Valentine nodded, getting up to pull his faded trench coat back on before walking hastily towards the entrance. Determined to join him on this mission, Piper downed the rest of her beer as quickly as she could and followed him out the bar. Shit, he was fast when he wanted to be.

 

“I've tangled with Malone in the past,” Valentine explained once Piper caught up to him, “mostly for murder, his men don't tend to leave their enemies alive. I've foiled him twice now and I think he considers me a rival of sorts, though personally I just consider him a nuisance. A dangerous nuisance, sure, but he lacks the character of a good villain.” 

 

Piper laughed at that. Valentine liked to think he wasn’t as dramatic as she was but he always tended to phrase his cases like he was writing some pre-war crime novella. Even his case reports were written in this style. Somehow she never had it in her to tease him for it.

 

When they arrived back at the agency Valentine turned to face Piper. “Malone used to be held up in an old vault, connected through the subway station by Swan Pond. I'm going to leave tomorrow morning to hunt him down after I let Ellie know where I'm going.”

 

“I'm going with you,” Piper said. She wasn’t about to pass up on an opportunity to get a decent story for her paper.

 

“Not this time, Piper,” Valentine said shaking his head. “It’s a dangerous part of the city and Malone’s gang is tough. You’ll get hurt.”

 

“I'm not a child, Val!” Piper retorted, “I've travelled with you before you know I can handle myself!”

 

“This isn't a question of whether or not you can handle yourself, though I’m sure you know as well as I do that your aim isn’t great. More importantly you have a kid sister to take care of. If something were to happen to you, she’d be all alone.”

 

Piper bristled. The look Valentine was giving her showed that he’d clearly picked up on the fact that she was avoiding her sister. She knew he’d been wanting to comment on it but he hadn’t yet. It was none of his damn business anyway. “Nat’s a smart girl, she’ll be fine.”

 

Valentine frowned at her. “Oh yeah? You think  McDonough is going to ensure she has the best possible protection should something happen to you? As far as he’s concerned she's just as much of a pain in his ass as you are. I won’t let you risk her life as well as your own.” 

 

That made Piper flush with shame. She hadn't thought about it before but she really had put her sister into a rather dangerous situation by writing those libels. She was annoyed at him though. Sister or not, he still was worried she would get killed.

 

Nick put a hand on her shoulder. The gesture was comforting and Piper felt some of the tension leave her. “Listen,” he said, rubbing her back slightly, “I picked up on a piece of gossip from Goodneighbor that might make for a decent story. Rumour has it their mayor might actually be a relative of  McDonough . Since you’re so hellbent on getting out of the city, why don't you head over there? It could make for a decent article. We could even walk over together.”

 

“Sure sure, I’ll check it out,” she said, sighing in resignation. It wasn't that the gossip didn't sound interesting, she just couldn’t stand it when Nick tried to protect her like that. If anyone else in the world had told her she had shit aim, she’d have decked them, but she couldn’t with him. He cared too much. “I still think I'll walk over on my own though,” she added coldly. She was still determined to stay mad at him, after all.

 

Valentine shrugged. He was used to her moods. “Suit yourself.” He unlocked his door, then paused and turned around to add, “Oh, and make sure you stop by The Third Rail while you're over there. Magnolia was asking about you.”

 

Piper frowned. She hadn't seen Magnolia in almost two years now and she still wasn't sure she wanted to see her again so soon. Since Nick was clearly watching her reaction closely and she knew his little computer brain was hastily recording every single detail of her personal life for later, she forced herself to smile.

 

“I’ll stop by. Take care of yourself Val,” she said putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You too, Wright.”

 

* * *

Despite Goodneighbor’s promise to welcome in anyone, especially Diamond City’s rejects, Piper had never felt any more accepted there than she was back home. 

 

Perhaps because they all still knew her, Publik Occurrences being perhaps even popular there that it was  in Diamond City, given that the majority of Goodneighbor's residents had been slighted in some way by Mayor  McDonough .

 

Still, even if Goodneighbor liked her paper and claimed to had nothing to hide, they didn't appreciate her poking around. From the second she’d passed through the gates to the city, she’d felt as though every single drunken gaze was on her. Piper wondered if she was just imagining it, until she heard one of the drifters whisper to another, “didn’t she write that paper bashing  McDonough?”

 

At least they sounded somewhat grateful, if perhaps a little mistrusting. Piper took a deep breath and held her head high as she walked over to the doors of the State House.

 

The guard in front of the entrance gave her a brief look of mild intrigue but said nothing.

 

“Is Hancock in?” She asked him.

 

The guard shrugged, “I think so?” he said, squinting his eyes at a spot on the ground in front of her. 

 

“You don't know?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I dunno my shift started an hour ago.” The man’s expression was vacant and Piper was beginning to realize he was quite high.

 

“And may I enter?”

 

Again the guard shrugged, “if you want. It's not really my job to stop you.”

 

Piper decided not to ask him what exactly he thought guard duty was supposed to be and just pushed past him into the hall thinking that it was a damn miracle this town hadn’t been ransacked by raider yet.

 

She could voices from upstairs, immediately recognizing Hancock’s croaking laugh. 

 

“Shit, yeah Mack, I told ya there's always space for you in the Hotel Rexford,” she heard him drone. He sounded high, but then again he usually was so she guessed that was sorta just his natural tone at this point.

 

When she made it to the top of the stairs she saw Hancock, lounging on a couch surrounded by drifters and chems and talking to a skinny, rather distressed-looking man.

 

“If I could afford the hotel, Hancock, we wouldn't be talking,” the man said bitterly. Piper stood in the doorway waiting for them to finish.

 

“So you're here looking for a handout?” Hancock asked with a smirk, “I never thought you were the sort to beg, MacCready, though I can't say I'd mind the sight…”

 

“Don’t even start with that crap, Hancock, I’m here to call in that favour!” the man named MacCready snapped back, trying too hard to seem angry when he was quite obviously flustered. 

 

“Ooh harsh language, be careful Mack I almost think I heard a swear in there...” Hancock mocked, then when MacCready shot him another glare he added “okay, fine, how about I give you a place on this couch, free of charge?” He winked and tapped the spot. The ghoul had no shame.

 

“Yeah, sure, or better yet how about I just OD on psycho in the nearest alley and you can clean my filthy rotting corpse out of it once you finally sober up? Because if I need to make at least one bad decision today I’ll be picking that over living with you.” MacCready replied angrily. It would’ve been a good insult had he not stammered slightly during the delivery.

 

“Shit Mack, that's cold,” Hancock said, his eyes widening. “Fine then, since I’m such a goddam gentleman, I'll tell Charlie you can crash in his back room. I’ll even throw in a free protection! Tell the guards to keep a short leash on any of your,  _ friends _ , should they happen to bother you. How’s that for the deal of the century?”

 

“Yeah, that works,” MacCready said, his anger subsiding to quiet relief. “Thanks Hancock.”

 

“Hey hey, no need to thank me. I'm the one who gets to have a cute boy sleeping in their basement,” Hancock said with another wink.

 

MacCready let out an exasperated sigh, “You know what? Good point. I take back the thank you. You can stuff it.” Then he swung his rifle over his back and stormed out the room, hardly acknowledging Piper.

 

“No problem Mack, you're always welcome here!” Hancock called out after him, unfazed by the small man’s anger. MacCready flipped him off from the doorway which caused everyone in the room burst into laughter. Hancock laughed so hard he fell of the couch, then jumping back up to his feet, he turned to his bodyguard and said proudly, “I told ya I could do it Fahr! You owe me 20 caps!”

 

“I don't owe you shit.” She replied with a snort, cleaning the dirt out from under her fingernails with a combat knife, “The bet was that you'd get him to swear, not flip you the bird. A crude gesture does not a ‘fuck you’ make.”

 

“Damn so you're saying I gave away free lodging for nothing?” Hancock whined, “ah well, all the more time to get a rise out of him.”

 

“You're a real perv, you know that Hancock?” Piper commented, finally stepping into the room.

 

Hancock grinned at her, seemingly unsurprised by her presence. “Well if it isn’t everyone’s favourite reporter. What's the matter Wright? You jealous of my natural charm?”

 

“Natural?” Piper said, raising an eyebrow and leaning up against the door frame, “are you saying it's hereditary?” She was forcing the conversation into the direction she wanted, hoping to get her information as fast as she could so she could get back to Diamond City before the mayor scrapped her printer or something.

 

“Well, seeing as how both my parents managed to get laid, I would guess so,” he replied with a shrug, though there was a wariness in his eyes now as he considered her weird question.

 

“Uh huh, so does being a mayor run in you family too?” Piper asked, deciding she may as well go straight to the point.

 

Hancock's smirk disappeared, changing into a rather wicked glare. Shit, the ghoul actually looked quite frightening when he wasn't laughing like an idiot. “Jumping right into it, aren’t we Miss Reporter?” He said darkly, picking up an inhaler full of jet and twirling it around in his hands. He gave a nod to Fahrenheit who started ushering the more sober drifters out of the room.

 

“I just thought maybe you might want to help me out on a little story about your brother…” she said coyly, trying to appeal to Hancock's notorious dislike of  McDonough.

 

“What brother?” Hancock asked feigning innocence, “as far as I can recall, I've never one. And even if I did, that’s not the sort of info I’d be tossing around to every nosy little writer that crashes in on my parties. Tell you what, Pipes, you wanna get to know a man? Get high with him first.” He shoved the jet out towards her, his smirk returning.

 

Piper considered it for a moment, trying to decide just how far she was willing to go for a story. Say she took the chems and lay back on one of Hancock's dirty couches tripping for a day. Maybe he'd tell her the story, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe she'd be too high to even hear it at all. Regardless of whether or not she got the facts she needed, though, news travelled fast in the Commonwealth and Piper didn’t want to have a reputation as one of Hancock’s drifters. She had her legitimacy to think about and she just couldn't risk it on this. 

 

Still it would be  _ so _ easy… all she'd need to do was reach out and grab the inhaler and she'd either get just the story she needed or at least some relief from her present frustrations.

 

She sighed. “Sorry Hancock, but I'll pass,” she said firmly, turning to leave.

 

“Shit man, double-rejected,” Fahrenheit laughed from the doorway, slapping a hand on Piper’s back as she walked by.

 

“Eh, I'm okay with it,” Hancock shrugged, flopping back down on the couch and taking a deep puff from the inhaler, “writers aren't really my type.”

 

“Beggars can't be choosers,” Fahrenheit replied, punching him in the arm as she sat down. 

Piper got the sense she wasn’t welcome anymore and left without looking back towards the laughing mass of happy, carefree stoners. 

 

* * *

She should've gone home right then but instead she went to the Third Rail. She needed a drink so badly it hurt.

 

Magnolia was on stage that night but didn't seem to pay her any mind when she entered, although it could be hard to tell with Magnolia; the woman seemed to be almost in another place whenever she sung. 

 

Piper slumped into a barstool and ordered a whisky; this really wasn't a beer sort of night.

 

Thankfully she’d only gotten a couple stares when she entered and by the time her drink had arrived everyone had gone back to ignoring her. The Goodnieghbor drifters were nothing if not apathetic. She sipped her drink in silence and tried not to let the loneliness bother her.

 

It didn't used to. Piper has never been someone who’d craved company and she'd always enjoyed strife. When she was younger, it had felt like it was her against the world, like she was better than all of her peers because she was the only one willing to stand up to injustices in search truth. Perhaps to a certain extent she still felt that way but it didn’t change the fact that she missed feeling like people actually wanted her around.

 

The constant stares, the way everyone seemed to keep her at arm's length, the way they all avoided talking to her beyond simple smalltalk; it got to her after a while. She had Nick at least, but even with him there was a slight wall she could never break past. He told her almost nothing about himself and she always felt like he was trying to protect her. Perhaps that was just the way he was programmed but it always just left her feeling like she was more of a little sister to him than a friend.

 

Her head got fuzzy quickly; she was a lightweight and the liquors in the Commonwealth tended to have a rather potent, and often unpredictable, alcohol percentage. Valentine wouldn't have let her drink all of it. She was glad for a moment that he wasn't around so she could take another long swig without feeling guilty about it.

 

“Long time no see, Miss Wright,” she heard a warm voice say from behind her. Magnolia slid down into the stool next to her, keeping an arm over her shoulder, “it's enough to make a girl think you've been avoiding her.”

 

She had been. Something about Magnolia never sat right with her. Sure, Piper couldn't help but get drawn into the singer’s sultry allure but at the same time waking up next to her always made her feel a little empty.

 

“I wouldn't dream of it Mags,” Piper lied, taking another sip from her bottle. She'd had more than enough now, her words already slurring, but Magnolia didn't seem to care. She never seemed to care about anything at all. Piper liked that about her. “I've just been busy is all. Besides, it's not as though you couldn't have made your way out to see me.”

 

Magnolia gave her a pitying smile. “Oh Piper, you know I don't work like that. The Commonwealth is a dangerous place for a mere bar singer, don't you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Piper mumbled, although she was pretty certain Magnolia could probably handle a gun just as well as she could; you don't get the luxury of wearing sequin gowns in Goodneighbor unless you've proven you can hold your own.

 

“You planning on staying the night?” Magnolia asked, running her hand up and down Piper’s back, her hand always lingering a little too long just above her hips. 

 

The sensation made Piper twitch. “Dunno,” she replied, though it was a dumb response. Of course she was staying. She certainly wasn't about to wander the streets of Boston alone at night while drunk. Besides she was already starting to lose herself into Magnolia’s touch, the singer’s perfume wafting around her blurring her senses better than any of Hancock’s chems could’ve done.

 

“Well I'm done for the night, if you needed somewhere to sleep,” Magnolia said in a low voice, leaning in closer to Piper could hear her. The hand on her back dipped lower. Magnolia had never been subtle, another trait of her’s that Piper had always liked. There were no games with her.

 

Magnolia pulled away and turned to go, taking with her the first warm feeling Piper had felt in a long time. She shivered and glanced over her shoulder to watch Magnolia’s back as she sauntered out, her gaze drifting lower towards the gentle sway of the singer’s hips. 

 

Piper knew she would’ve been better off just ordering another whiskey but loneliness got the better of her. She threw down a couple caps as a tip and followed Magnolia out of the bar, stumbling along behind her like a lost puppy. This time nobody stared at her, all of them too lost in their own drinks to care about her shitty decisions.

 

* * *

Magnolia was already awake when Piper woke up, lying on her back with the sheets flung off her and a hand rolled cigarette between her lips which were still stained red from last night’s lipstick. Although it was far from warm, she hadn't bothered to get dressed and small goosebumps began to speckle her bare chest as it rose and fall with each soft breath.

 

Piper figured Magnolia must’ve been well aware of how beautiful she looked right then. She was one of the few folks left out in the Commonwealth who could’ve maybe been mistaken for pre-war, her skin all shining and unmarked and her teeth still relatively straight. The last remnant of the old world in this broken wasteland.

 

But then again, Piper knew she was just making her into more than she was, because although the scene was beautiful Piper still felt painfully alone. She nuzzled up against Magnolia, kissing the side of her chest, just below the armpit. Magnolia only hummed quietly in response, opening her mouth to blow more smoke into the room. 

 

“Did you tell Nick to come find me?” She asked, trying to fill the emptiness of the room despite her voice being muffled against Magnolia’s skin.

 

“Yes,” she admitted without a trace of shame, “though he said you wouldn't come unless I offered a chance for a story as well.”

 

“So you gave him that story about Hancock huh?” She wasn't surprised. Nick was definitely the sort to involve himself with Magnolia. “Is it the truth?”

 

“What do you think?” Magnolia said, her lips curling around the ribbons of smoke as she exhaled.

 

“I think it's pretty obvious,” Piper said admittedly, “but it's a worthless story without any concrete evidence to back it up. How did you know about it?”

 

“Someone told me in confidence,” Magnolia said, then added, “personally I'm glad you couldn't find any proof though. I don't like to betray the trust of my friends.”

 

“And which  _ friend _ would this be? Don't tell me you're sleeping with Hancock.” She knew Magnolia tended to prefer men but the thought of her with him made her flinch.

 

“Not my type,” Magnolia replied, “too messy, I wouldn't want to get involved with him.”

 

“Who then?” 

 

“Fahrenheit told me.”

 

“Oh,” Piper said blankly going very still and feeling a chill pass through her. She hadn’t known there’d been other girls.

 

Magnolia noticed immediately, they were too close for her to hide it. “You're upset,” she said, more of a statement than a question.

 

“I'm not,” Piper lied.

 

“Yes you are,” Magnolia said, turning over to look at her with a disappointed expression, “Piper don't be like this. You know how I work and you have no right to talk, especially after ignoring me for so many months.”

 

“I know,” Piper tried to assure her but her voice cracked and gave her away.

 

“Then why are you giving me that look.”

 

Piper sighed, “I just thought I was the only girl, okay?”

 

“You were,” Magnolia said, turning away again to take another drag from her cigarette, “but even if you had visited more often, that wouldn't have lasted. We agreed this was just for fun the first time we met. It was always open. If I’d known you wanted something more, I wouldn’t have invited you back again last night.”

 

Piper said nothing. Magnolia was right of course but that didn't make it hurt any less. She had thought they had something special. Sure, maybe it was just for fun but she’d still wanted to mean something to Magnolia. She mentally kicked herself for being so fucking stupid.

 

Magnolia pulled away from her. “Listen, I have to work, okay? There's a spare key in the side drawer if you want to leave. If you don’t plan to come back, just slide it under the door, but if you're going to stay, you gotta cheer up.”

 

“How many people have this key?” Piper asked accusingly, pulling it out of the door and frowning at it.

 

Magnolia sighed and started to get dressed. “There's only one key. Nobody stays long enough to have ownership over it.” Then she leaned into her mirror, fixed her hair, and left without saying goodbye. 

 

Piper now felt even more empty than before and pulled Magnolia’s pillow closer to hug it. She knew she was being immature and that Magnolia didn’t deserve her attitude but she couldn’t stop herself. It was as though some strange sort of frustration she’d buried deep inside her had burrowed its way to the surface ready to wreak havoc on her sanity. She should never have gone to Goodneighbor in the first place.

 

For the lack of anything else to do aside from berate herself, she fell back asleep.

 

* * *

Magnolia woke her up in the late afternoon to bring her a can of purified water and a package of Fancy Lad’s Snack Cakes. “Come on Piper, this is pathetic,” she told her, exasperated.

 

Piper didn't move and Magnolia rolled her eyes and went back to the bar.

 

* * *

In the late evening, when Magnolia finally finished work, she walked in to find Piper sitting by the window, writing in her journal by the light of an oil lamp.

 

“Feeling better?” She asked.

 

Piper put the journal down and walked over to her slowly. She cupped Magnolia’s face and pulled their lips together, kissing her languidly, savouring the warm taste of her.

 

Magnolia kissed her back for a while before pulling away and pressing a finger to Piper’s lips, separating them.

 

“I feel like you need a limit,” she said with a smile, “five kisses max, you have four left.”

 

“On the mouth?” Piper asked.

 

“Everywhere,” Magnolia said, “choose wisely.”

 

So Piper kissed the shell of her ear, then her neck, biting just slightly to mark the pale skin there. She kissed her, warm and soft, at the tip of her breast, saving her last and longest kiss for between Magnolia’s legs. Magnolia didn't kiss her at all.

 

* * *

The next day Piper borrowed a typewriter from the hotel secretary, paying her a small rental fee of 15 caps.

 

All day she typed with it, working on a story that compared Diamond City and Goodneighbor. “A Tale of Two Cities,” she called it. It was a thoughtful analysis, comparing the secretive false-perfection of the former to the honest messiness of the latter. It was some of her better writing, if she dared say so herself. She worked on it till the ink of the old typewriter began to run dry, watching her wall of text fade until the words were no longer discernible. 

 

Then she took the papers, stacked them in order, folded them up, and lit them on fire. She scattered the ashes out the window. It was strangely therapeutic.

 

When Magnolia came home from work that night, she tied Piper’s arms to the head rail of the bed and took her time, her kisses moving left to right across Piper’s chest the way words are read on a page.

 

* * *

On her fourth day in Goodneighbor, Piper offered to return a book to the Boston Public Library for Daisy in exchange for a few caps. She snuck into the building while the mutants were fighting with security and tossed the book into the return machine.

 

She gave Daisy the tokens and got paid.

 

That night she decided to just cuddle with Magnolia.

 

“This is the last time,” Magnolia warned her, “I don't mind you sleeping here but if you have to stop with the romance. You're still caring too much.”

 

Piper thought the complete opposite; with each passing day she cared less and less.

 

* * *

Eventually Piper went back to State House. Hancock was still lying on the couch with Fahrenheit as though he’d hardly moved since she’d last came there. This time, however, he was with a different group of drifters and there were now a few mentats scattered on the coffee table amongst the jet.

 

He looked up when Piper walked in. “Well well, if it isn't Miss Nosey-pants. Come to snoop a little further have we?”

 

Piper ignored the comment and sat down in a free spot on the couch, acting as though she belonged there. “Well, you said if I wanted to know you, I had to get high with you. So here I am.”

 

Hancock raised an eyebrow, “Did I? Not that I'd object to you joining us but you know that even if you party with us for a bit, I still reserve the right not to tell you shit.”

 

“I'll take that risk,” she replied calmly, as though she’d thought this through at all.

 

Hancock gave her a wicked grin. “Alrighty then, what's your poison Miss Wright?”

 

Piper wasn't keen on Chems but she'd at least tried jet before. Besides, this was the milder recreational stuff, not the sort you used in combat. She picked up one of the inhalers, squinting at it to see if it was still full. It was. She sat down, everyone in the room watching her expectantly. She exhaled, then pushed the top and inhaled. It was more potent that she’d anticipated and it tasted like inhaling Brahmin shit but she didn’t gag. Once it had gone down, she stuck her tongue out in disgust. The drifters murmured with approval as the world began to slow down.

 

Hancock seemed impressed at least. “All right, give it up for Piper!” he shouted and Piper just managed to catch a glimpse of him taking his own hit of jet before she blacked out.

 

She was still high when she started to come to and she could hear music playing faintly from a nearby radio, the percussion sounding far louder to her than the lyrics themselves. The world was a blurry haze of bubbly lights that began to sharpen into more familiar shapes as she came down from the high. She lifted her head with a groan and began to recognize Hancock sitting across from her on the opposite from couch. He stared at her blankly for a few moments before winking at her and giggling. She giggled back, despite the throbbing pain in her head.

 

Then, as though he’d suddenly thought of something, Hancock leapt to his feet, bumping into his coffee table as he did so, and began banging on a glass to get everyone's attention. When the stoners predictably ignored him, he pulled out his pistol and shot it at the roof, causing one of the drifters to yelp and chunks of plaster to rain down on their heads.

 

“Alright listen up you stoned bastards,” he said, wiping the plaster of his head and wobbling slightly, “I want all of you to say a warm, official Goodneighbor welcome to the newest member of our gang of merry assholes: Piper Wright.”

 

There was an off key chorus of “Welcome Piper” from whichever drifters were still conscious enough to understand him.

 

Hancock waited for silence before continuing. “Now, you all may not know this, but Miss Wright over here has a rough life,” he began putting a hand over his chest for dramatic emphasis. “This poor girl,” he gestured to what he thought was her general direction, “works too hard, day and night, trying to show the world just how much of a shithole Diamond City really is.”

 

The drifters murmured in approval. Hating Diamond City was the one thing they all seemed to have in common and one of the ones closest to Piper even patted her on the back to show his respect.

 

“All that work,” Hancock continued, “and what thanks does Mayor McDipshit give her? None! That's what!” 

 

The drifters booed and Piper joined them as though this speech actually made any sense.

 

“Now,” said Hancock, “we have been kind enough to give this hardworking reporter a well deserved break. Some good ol fashioned R&R, Goodneighbor style. The last thing any of us would want to do,” he said, grabbing one of the sleeping drifters by the collar and shaking him awake roughly, “would be to spoil the good reputation of our fair city by blabbing to people about how Miss Wright chooses to spend her time.” He threw the drifter back to the ground, “do I make myself clear?” He asked.

 

“Y’hear him?” Fahrenheit snarled, backing him up “none of you fuckers are to go around talking about her joining us.”

 

Hancock nodded, “what happens in Goodneighbor, stays in Goodneighbor.”

 

The drifters cheered, though Piper was doubtful they completely understood. Heck, she barely understood and this speech was on her behalf! Hancock flopped back down onto the couch, satisfied with his efforts, and gave Piper another wink, “See? Your reputation is safe with me.”

 

Piper laughed as though he had said the funniest joke in the world. The world was still moving achingly slow yet she felt happier than she’d had in a long time. She never wanted to come back down from this high.

 

“So,” Hancock asked her, “you got any good stories from Diamond City? Any juicy gossip about a certain mayor that didn't get printed?”

 

Piper had to think about it for a moment, her brain stalling as it tried to process the question. “I have one…” she said finally, “but it's gross.”

 

“We live for gross!” Hancock exclaimed excitedly, elbowing Fahrenheit and receiving encouraging cheers from the drifters around him. “Lay it on us!”

 

“Okay,” Piper began, “so for weeks I’d wanted to get into  McDonough ’s terminal, to see what sort of shit he's hiding on there, but I wasn't sure how to get at is, since I'm not even really allowed into his waiting room anymore. Figured it was a hopeless endeavour but then I had a friend in security who tells me one day that  McDonough always dismissed his entire security every second Thursday.”

 

“Why’d he do that?” a drifter asked.

 

Fahrenheit smacked him, “let her get to it.”

 

Piper grinned, loving being the centre of attention. “I wasn't sure why but I realized this was going to be my only shot at getting in so I waited till that night, I snuck into his office, picked the lock, and went to his terminal. Problem is, I'm not much of a hacker and the damn thing is password blocked, so I decide to check his bedroom to see if maybe he wrote down the code somewhere.”

 

Everyone is awake now, staring at her intently. Most of them are stoned half to death, including Piper, but she the excitement of storytelling outweighed the languid pull of her high.

 

“So there I am, searching the room,” she continued, “and I suddenly hear the elevator in the hallway ding. Someone's coming and I'm in the room, I don't have time to escape. I have to hide.”

 

“Where did you hide?” The same drifter asks, immediately getting smacked even harder by Fahrenheit.

 

“The only place I can hide: under the bed.”

 

The drifter’s eyes widen but Piper can't tell if he actually knows where she's going with this.

 

“The voices are getting better closer,” she said, leaning in for emphasis, “I hear a man and a woman's voice;  McDonough and that secretary of his are coming down the hallway. That’s when I realized why he dismissed the guard for the night.”

 

“No way,” Fahrenheit said softly, eyes widening in shock, “no way you actually saw them do it!”

 

“I didn't see them,” Piper corrected, “but oh boy did I ever hear it.”

 

“Gross!” Someone said, the others were laughing. Hancock had leaned so far to the edge of the couch that he actually nearly fell off, catching himself on the table and knocking several inhalers onto the floor in the process. 

 

“It gets worse!” Piper continued excitedly, “suddenly I hear the rattling of handcuffs!”

 

“Oh god,” someone whispers.

 

“You can't be serious,” says another.

 

“Clothes are tossed to the floor,” She was gesturing wildly now, “a pair of panties falls a foot from my face! I'm trying not to puke but I can hear everything! Every moan, every movement. Then I hear what I thought was the worst sound I could've heard. I hear someone's ass get slapped.”

 

They're all leaning in, everyone's face nearly cheek to cheek over the filthy, chem-covered coffee table.

 

“But it got even worse,” said Piper in a low voice, slowing down for suspense, “I hear it. The single worst sound that has ever fallen upon my ears. I heard  McDonough  say,” she changes her voice to a low whine, “ _ harder mommy! _ ”

 

“Ooooh!” The room erupted, her audience falling over clutching their stomachs. Somebody vomited behind the couch, though whether that was from the story or the amount of chem’s they’d consumed she couldn't tell. Hancock, who'd been trying to pull the cap of a new canister of jet with his teeth, accidentally inhaled the plastic cap, falling to the floor with hacking, coughing laugher. When Fahrenheit managed to pull herself together she had to pick him up and give the best possible Heimlich a stoner was able to give.

 

Hancock coughed up the plastic cap, launching it several feet and causing the party to laugh even harder.

 

“That,” he said, catching is breath, “is the best story I've ever heard in my entire life!” He high fived her enthusiastically. “Piper Wright you are now at the top of my party invite list! Remind me next time I’m sober. Actually, wait, don't do that. I’m gonna need to forget this once I'm sober.”  

 

He saluted her and she saluted him back earnestly, although neither of them had any idea what the other was talking about.

 

Then someone handed her a congratulatory hit of jet. She took a puff and thanked whoever it was so profusely that she started to cry a little before passing out again.

 

* * *

All in all she must've spent almost two weeks in Goodneighbor, though it was hard to say as she woke up at least three times on Hancock's floor slightly unsure of how long she'd been there. The last night she remembered being there, she’d woken up more sober than she wanted to be and found Hancock was the only one awake.

 

He’d handed her a cigarette. “Here, it helps with the hangover.”

 

She’d doubted that but she took it anyway, hardly caring what she put into her body anymore. The smoke filled her lungs and she forgot how to breath for a moment, turning over to hack violently. If she’d had any food in her body she’d have thrown up but she didn’t. After that Hancock simply handed her a can of water.

 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, sitting back down on the couch.

 

“No problem,” he said, sitting down next to her. After a brief silence he said, “you’re cooler than I thought you’d be Piper. This has been fun.”

 

She nodded, understanding what he was getting at. “But you’re still not going to tell me anything, huh?” she guessed.

 

Hancock shook his head and took a drag from the cigarette. “You probably know the answer anyway, but no. I’m not going to give you anything. Don’t get me wrong, I hold no love for McDonough and I don’t give a shit what you write about him, but leave me out of it. I’ve got a good thing going here, I’d rather put all that shit behind me.”

 

She nodded, “I understand.” Some part of her cared about Hancock, oddly enough. He was far from being a friend but he was fun. She’d never been able to understand how a chem-addict could’ve commanded the respect of so many until she'd actually had the chance to hang out with him.

 

She shook his hand when she left the State House to stumble back over to Magnolia’s.

 

* * *

Magnolia would always give her a disappointed look when she came back from Hancock’s parties 

 

“It's been twelve days now Piper,” she informed her that night, giving Piper a look of pity so strong that it made her feel even sicker than the hangover did.

 

“I know,” she mumbled, even though she hadn't actually known, “I won't go again, I promise. Last time.”

 

“It's your last time here too,” Magnolia said, “tomorrow you're going back to Diamond City.”

 

“Wait, you're kicking me out?” Piper said, waking up a little. She felt crushed, although in hindsight she shouldn't have been surprised.

 

“Not necessarily,” Magnolia clarified, “I'm telling you that you  _ should _ go back. I won't force you and if you're so determined to stay in Goodneighbor I definitely won't leave you out in the cold, but still I want you to go back.” She got up and put a hand on Piper’s shoulder. Piper was only just realizing how hard she was trembling from the low of the chems. “This place isn't good for you Piper. Go home, go back to your sister and your job.”

 

“I don't want to,” Piper whined, “nobody even likes me there, Mags! Every goddamn day I'm fighting with the mayor or getting arrested or answering hate mail! It's exhausting! It's a shitty way to live. People like me here!”

 

“The Piper I know wouldn't give up so easily,” Magnolia said, moving her hand up to caress Piper’s cheek. “Come on now, without you around trying to get a hold of the truth,  McDonough is probably having a field day. Do you really want that man to rest so easily?”

 

Piper only sighed and wandered over to the bed to fall flat on her face and moan into a pillow. Her head was throbbing too hard to deal with this like a mature adult.

 

“Go home Piper,” Magnolia repeated, sitting down next to her, “for your own good.”

 

“Fine,” Piper said, her voice cracking slightly. She was trying so hard not to cry. It would only make her head worse at this point.

 

Magnolia leaned back and they sat there in silence for a while, though Piper had a feeling she wasn’t done talking just yet.

 

“Jesus Mags, just fucking say it, I know you have more,” Piper snapped, lifting her head up slightly.

 

Magnolia took a deep breath before replying, “Piper I don't think we should do this anymore,” she said finally. “What we had going, it was fun for a while but honestly I think you want something from me that I don't have the energy to give. I'm sorry but this has to stop.”

 

Well, Piper had expected as much. She buried her face back in her pillow. “Don't be sorry,” she mumbled, “it's my fault anyway.”

 

The comment was guilt-tripping and they both knew it so Magnolia just sighed and turned off the light before turning away from Piper, managing to somehow keep their backs from touching despite how small the bed was.

 

Piper tried to regulate her breathing but she couldn’t, still trembling from the low. Her fingertips were beginning to feel numb and she felt her stomach growl. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She realized that Magnolia was right. Goodneighbor wasn't good for her, the throbbing pain in her head told her as much. All she was doing was hiding. Ignoring her work, dulling her brain with chems and pretending like she had a real relationship. She was supposed to be the voice of truth for Diamond City yet she couldn’t even be the voice of truth for herself. This had to stop. 

 

Besides Nat probably missed her. And Val too. For all she knew  McDonough had already gone and trashed her house, being the scheming bastard that he was. She had to stop him. She had to stop hiding. She’d realized long ago that loneliness was the price she paid for telling the truth and keeping people out of the dark.

 

She breathed in a newfound energy, a forced determination that she prayed she’d be able to make real, and fell asleep in Goodneighbor for the last time.

 

* * *

She snuck out of bed early the next morning without saying goodbye to Magnolia. She had thought about leaving some money to thank her for putting up with her the whole week but she knew Magnolia wouldn't have wanted that. She slid the key back under the door so Magnolia would know she was gone for good.

 

The walk back to Diamond City was blessedly easy, as Piper stayed close to the walls to avoid any gunfights. As much as she wanted to be able to cross the Commonwealth on her own, the streets of Boston could be a death sentence for someone who wasn't great with a gun. 

 

Her heart didn't stop pounding in her chest until she'd reached the gates of Diamond City. There she stopped to catch her breath and looked up once more at those formidable walls. It felt like she’d been away for so long, she'd almost forgotten how tall they were.

 

She walked up to the gate and was surprised to find it closed. They never closed the gates unless there was an emergency. She pushed the intercom and said, “Danny? Are you there? It's me, Piper. Could you open the gate?”

 

Danny’s voice crackled back through the intercom, “Sorry Piper, no can do. Mayor’s ordered me to keep it shut.”

 

That liar. Piper knew for a fact the Mayor wouldn't have barricaded the entire city. She wasn't sure how they'd known she was coming but she knew this was about her. “Bullshit!” She shouted back through the intercom, “Do I need to remind McDonough that I fucking live here? He can’t keep me out of my own damn house!” Danny ignored her and she started bang on the gate uselessly, the steel too thick to even resonate under the force of her fists.

 

“Is everything okay here?” A quiet voice said from behind her.

 

Piper whipped around, her anger fading into shock as she found herself facing one of the oddest travelers she’d ever encountered. A tall woman in her thirties wearing a skintight blue vault suit, barely visible under the mishmash of scavenged armour over it. 

 

Piper froze as she took the traveller in. Her vault suit was in far too good of a condition to have been scavenged but this girl looked much tougher than any vault-dweller Piper had ever encountered before, her broad, muscular shoulders carrying the heavy metal armour she wore with ease. 

 

She was– well beautiful didn't seem the right word for it. She wasn't the soft, delicate sort of beautiful like Magnolia was but this vault dweller did have a certain attractiveness to her. Her face was round and etched with small scars, a cluster of them on her left cheek that were likely caused by shrapnel and another under her chin. Aside from that though, her warm brown skin was surprisingly unblemished for a wastelander. 

 

Piper decided that her beauty was in her strangeness, the odd juxtaposition between the clean healthy features of a Vault-dweller mixed with all the hardness of the wastelander. Piper was used to knowing the two as separate; those who lived in the vault being attractive in a clean sense but pathetically soft compared than a true wastelander. This woman was both though, sort of like Magnolia in that sense though visually there couldn’t have been two people more different.

 

The vault-dweller cleared her throat, snapping Piper out of her reverie. “Is this Diamond City?” She asked, giving Piper a confused look.

 

Piper realized with embarrassment how long she had been staring. She shook herself out of it as it dawned on her that this traveller could be her ticket back into town. “Oh hello there!” She said, loudly enough for the intercom to hear her. Then she covered the speaker and leant in towards the vault dweller and whispered “Play along okay?” Then back into the mic she said loudly, “Wow! So you're a trader? Carrying goods all the way from Quincy? Danny you should probably open the gate, wouldn't want crazy Mirna to find out you cost her all these deals!”

 

“Nice try Piper,” Danny called back, “I don't hear anyone out there.”

 

Piper gave the stranger a look and she smiled at her understandingly and leant into the mic, “Well I guess I'll just have to take my wares to the next city.” She said in an over exaggerated tone, “Do you happen to know a better place miss?” She turned to Piper with a look of mild amusement.

 

Piper couldn't help but grin back at her. “Well, there's Goodneighbor a little further east of here. From what I've heard they're more willing to let anyone in, especially someone with your business.”

 

“Jesus Piper, fine!” Danny said exasperated and the gate began to open.

 

Piper lifted her hand the the stranger high-fived her, perhaps a little more forcefully than she had anticipated. 

 

They got only a few steps into the door when they came to be face to face with  McDonough .

 

“Piper I thought I’d made it clear that you weren't to come back here!” He snapped his face red with anger and his eyes blazing.

 

“Locking me out, McDonough? Really?” she asked, “That’s a cheap trick even from you. What, are you that scared of the press?”

 

He bristled at that. “You scoundrel! That paper of your’s is all lies. I swear the next libel you print will be the last straw! I'll see to it that you never print another word again in your miserable little life!”

 

“You can’t stop the press,” Piper replied, standing her ground, “Try and silence me, I dare you. You’ll only be digging yourself deeper.”

 

“You gravely underestimate me, Miss Wright,” he said darkly.

 

“Ooh I'm so scared,” she said mockingly, “You’re all talk McDonough. Why don’t we ask our new traveller what she thinks.” She turned to the vault-dweller who gave her a look like she really didn’t want to be a part of this. Piper ignored it. “So what do you think of Freedom of the Press, huh?”She asked her. Piper wasn’t really doing this for McDonough more that she was curious to see how this stranger would respond.

 

The vault dweller could tell it was a test and rose to it. “It’s one of the cornerstones of democracy,” she said. Piper smiled at her. She couldn’t have said it better herself.

 

The mayor only glared at them both, “I sincerely hope this little friend of your’s has caps to spend Piper.”

 

“Yeah? Or else what?” Piper challenged.

 

McDonough couldn’t reply. He simply turned on his heel and stormed back out towards the elevators.

 

Piper watched him go with a smug look on her face, before turning to the stranger. “Enjoy your Diamond City welcome?” Piper asked.

 

“Can't say it's the worst welcome I've gotten since I left the vault,” she said with a laugh.

 

“Ah so you are a vault dweller then, though I suppose I could've guessed that myself. Not just ‘cause of the suit, you're too clean for this place.” She shouldn’t have commented that and cursed herself for not thinking before she spoke.

 

The vault-dweller hardly noticed though, seeming surprised by Piper’s remark. “Wait, so are there other vault dwellers around?” She asked.

 

“Not many,” Piper said, “I know some folks’ll trade with Vault 81 on the edge of town but personally I've never met one. What number are you?”

 

“111,” she replied, “I'm the only survivor though.” 

 

Piper had heard vaults sometimes malfunctioned and since most of them were sealed up like tombs not many tended to survive. “Shit, I'm sorry Blue, that's rough,” Piper said, although she didn't really know what it was like inside the vaults.

 

“Call me Chase. And it's okay, I didn't know any of them that well.” She shot Piper a smile that seemed fake somehow. Actually, all her smiles up until this point had seemed profoundly artificial to Piper. She was no psychoanalyst like Val but it wasn’t hard to sense that there was a sadness coming off this girl. 

 

Still, it wasn’t Piper’s place to challenge this girl’s emotions so she just smiled back, “Cute name but I might just stick with Blue. So you know we're friends.” 

 

“Are we friends?” Chase asked raising her eyebrow, though she didn’t seem bothered by the assumption

 

“Well, you got me past Danny so yeah you can count on me as a friend.” Piper said with a shrug. Perhaps she was being a little bit forward but she wanted Chase’s approval. “So what brings you to Diamond City anyway?”

 

“I'm looking for someone,” Chase said, “a boy, my son. He got stolen from me while I was in the Vault.”

 

“Woah that's rough,” Piper said, though she had to admit she was surprised this girl had a child; she didn't seem like the motherly type. “Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news but people go missing in Diamond City far too often nowadays and McDonough and his whole security system has been useless in stopping it.”

 

Chase frowned. “So you haven’t seen anything? No one pass through with a baby?”

 

Piper shook her head. “Not recently anyway, but I know someone who can help you. Nick Valentine, he’s the detective here in town. I can bring you to his office if you’d like.” Piper figured she owed Nick a visit anyway. She wasn’t looking forward to having a conversation with him, knowing full well he’d chastise her for staying away for so long. Still, after her breakdown in Goodneighbor his calm, collected presence did appeal to her

 

“Well, lead the way then, _ Red _ ,” Chase said and Piper felt her heart flutter slightly at the nickname.

 

She lead Chase down the back alley towards Valentine’s detective agency, although she quickly realized her guidance was unnecessary. She always forgot how easy his office was to find what with the hideous neon pink signs he insisted on putting up. The vault dweller could've surely found the place on her own and Piper prayed that she hadn’t offended Chase by leading her to such an obvious place.

 

Piper’s concern over her approval wasn’t merely because Chase was attractive (although that was certainly a factor). The woman had an aura of adventure around her that made Piper think this could be her chance for a story that really took off. A story about life in the vault to captivate her readers followed by the story of yet another missing child in the Commonwealth. It was perfect! She couldn’t afford to let Chase slip out of her grasp.

 

She had her own key to the agency. Valentine had given her one once they started sharing their personal book collections. She and Nick were one of the few people left in the Commonwealth who still retained a passion for reading but since books were hard to come by they’d decided to simply share their collections between them. He could let himself into her house to borrow from her shelf and she could let herself into his. 

 

It had gotten to the point that they could hardly even tell who's books belonged to whom. She knew Nick preferred dystopian literature and Victorian horror while she had more of an affinity for historical fiction and satire. Everything else was more of a grey area. 

 

She unlocked the door and called out, “Nicky? Got another client for you!” She pushed her way into the agency only to find Ellie giving her a sad look from the back of the room by the filing cabinet. The office was way tidier than Piper had ever seen it, the desks vacant and the once overflowing filing cabinets now empty. Seeing the place so clean was eerie and gave Piper a sickening sense of foreboding.

 

“What the hell is going on here Ellie?” Piper asked leaning over the secretary’s shoulder. “What are you doing with his old files?”

 

“You didn't hear?” Ellie said in a broken voice, her eyes puffy from crying. “Malone got him Piper! Vladmir came to my house at midnight a few days ago to tell me he'd heard it from some Triggerman who'd stopped by the bar.” She sat down and buried her face in her hands. “I told that man not to run face first into trouble but does he ever listen? Now I gotta clean all this up before the mayor comes to repossess the place.” She closed the box and put it down on the pile, “feel free to help yourself to the cases, he would've wanted you to have them.”

 

Piper had been staring at the pile of boxes in shock. Nick couldn't be dead, it was impossible. Her mind refused to believe it. “No way he’s dead,” she whispered, staring blankly at the floor.

 

“I can't imagine Malone would leave him alive,” Ellie said with a sigh. She put her hand on Piper’s shoulder, “I'm sorry, I know you two were close. I was going to try to host a little memorial for him, if you wanted to help, but I understand if you need time to process this.”

 

Piper shook her off, glaring at her. “Don’t you dare Ellie. He's not dead yet! Not till I've seen a body!” She was shaking a little, the feeling of nausea she’d had that morning rushing back to her. She needed to believe Nick was alive. How could she handle things without him? 

 

“Piper…” Ellie said with a sigh.

 

“Listen Ellie, Nicks alive!” Piper insisted, without a shred of doubt in her, “I can feel it! I'm going to find him.”

 

“Don't you dare!” Ellie said grabbing her by the arm. “If Nick couldn't handle those thugs alone then you most certainly can't! I know he wouldn't have wanted you to storm off to your death looking for him.”

 

“I'll come with her,” Chase said quietly from the back. 

 

Ellie and Piper both turned to look at her. With a large rifle slung over her back and her heavy metal raider armour, she certainly looked formidable enough to take on a gang triggermen. 

 

“I'm serious,” Chase continued, “I need his help. Between the two of us those men don't stand a chance.”

 

“You'd do that?” Ellie asked, letting go of Piper, “you'd be able to keep her safe right?”

 

“I don't need protection,” Piper grumbled bitterly. She was able to handle this from Nick but when Ellie said it she felt her hand instinctively clench into a fist. 

 

Chase nodded, “I've fought worse out here than a few mobsters with guns out here. If this detective is alive, we can get him back.”

 

“So it's settled then,” Piper said, giving Ellie a curt nod. “We're getting Nick back and you're going to make sure the mayor doesn't take his shit until we do.”

 

Ellie sighed, “fine. I suppose you know where you're going?”

 

Piper nodded, then added, “Could you let Nat know where I’ve gone?” She didn’t look back to see if Ellie had agreed, she was in too much of a hurry. She grabbed a couple packs of Nick’s cigarettes before leaving the agency. She figured if he’d been locked up this whole time he'd be wanting them. 

 

She stormed out of the office, forgetting all about her earlier excitement over Chase. She felt sick with guilt. Afterall, she had been the one to point him to Malone in the first place. Maybe if she’d insisted a little harder she could’ve gone with him and kept him safe.

 

“The place is an old metro station in the centre of the city,” she explained to Chase, fumbling slightly while she tried to put another cartridge into her 10mm, “the city is far more dangerous than the wasteland though, ghouls, super mutants, and raiders round every corner. It'd be best if we travelled by night and stick to the shadows. More baddies around but we’ll be harder to spot.”

 

“Super mutants?” Chase asked, “What’s that?”

 

Piper froze at that, turning around to face her, “I thought you said you knew how to fight? How have you never run into a Super Mutant?”

 

“I fought in the war,” Chase clarified, “I’ve only been out here a couple days.”

 

“What war?” Piper asked, confused, “what the fuck kind of war would you have fought in a vault?”

 

Chase looked almost as baffled as she was. “We were frozen in the vault,” she said slowly. “They froze us just after the bombs fell. Aren’t all the vaults like that?”

 

“Holy shit, you’re pre-war?” Piper said. She could hardly believe it. No way, it was impossible. She’d only ever heard of ghouls who’d lived that long.

 

Chase was staring down at the ground with a pained look. “I thought all the vaults were like that,” she said softly. “When you’d mentioned other Vault-Dwellers I just assumed…”

 

She couldn’t finish that though. Piper felt a deep pity for this poor woman. And here she was thinking she knew about loneliness while Chase was the only human left from that old world. Well, aside from her son. Piper put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need a moment?” She asked.

 

Chase shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she assured her, making that fake smile again, “I’ll just process it on the way over.”

 

Piper was doubtful but she didn’t protest, simply leading them over to the gate. Once the got out, she pulled out her 10mm, flicking the safety off for the trek over. Then, Chase finally spoke again, putting a hand on her back, “Perhaps I should go ahead of you?”

 

Piper again felt herself grown defensive. “I'm not as weak as Ellie or Nick think!” she protested bitterly. “I may not have the best aim but most creatures will go down well enough whether you hit their head or their thigh and I'm good at staying out of bullet range.”

 

“I didn't mean to imply you couldn’t,” Chase replied blankly, “I just meant that I actually have armour on as well as a scoped rifle. It would make more sense to have me in the front”

 

“Oh,” Piper replied flushing with embarrassment. She was too eager to impress this Vault Dweller and it was showing. 

 

But the vault dweller didn't seem to think she was weak. Chase actually paused a moment to reach into her bag and pulled out a leather chest piece. “Wear this under your jacket,” she said. “That way if we get taken by surprise you'll still have to protection, yeah? You still want to take the front?”

 

Piper couldn't believe that this girl actually believed in her. She took the chestpiece almost reverently. “Thanks, Blue, but how about we just storm the place as a pair, yeah?”

 

Chase grinned at her. “So the plan is to get in quick and obliterate them? Sure, I like it.”

 

“No breaks?” She asked.

 

Chase shook her head. “Pure force.” 

 

Piper smiled. She liked this girl a lot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm aware this fic is being posted at a snail's pace. That's in part due to the fact that I had finals and in part kinda just the way I am. I've actually written much more of this fic than whats been posted, since writing takes a lot less of my energy than editing so hopefully now that I'm on break I'll be able to just post chapters as I edit them. I'm posting three right now to make up for the hiatus and also because they're on the shorter end. I'm hoping the typos are minimal but I'm off my adhd meds right now so it's easier for me to miss stuff. I'll try and go back through all this once I'm back on them and clean it up a little but for now I'm just sorta praying I caught everything.

Valentine walked in a circle around the overseer’s office for what might have been the fifteenth time that day before flopping back down into the office chair. It creaked slightly under his weight but otherwise it was in remarkably good condition for a 200 year old relic. He'd been in this room for eleven days now with each second beginning to feel longer and longer. He'd flipped through a few files on the vault out of curiosity, having gone through every document on the terminal three times now. None of it was particularly interesting, at least not after the second and third read through. He had initially tried to use the terminal to hack into the vault’s security but had found that it had been cut off from the main system. He was surprised by such foresight from a guy as dumb as Skinny Malone, though perhaps it had been Darla’s idea.

 

The girl was smarter than he'd thought, given her poor choice in men. He'd shot through about five of Malone’s guards at the gate before she'd shown up, telling him how she'd managed to steal the keys to her cell and was making a break for it. She’d played the part of a distraught kidnapped daughter nicely, describing between false sobs about how she'd finally thought she'd found a good man in Malone before he'd locked her up for ransom. Valentine shouldn't have believed her, he knew there’d been no ransom notes, but he had assumed maybe she'd just gotten bored with Malone. Besides he figured he'd killed most of the gang by then. 

 

He hadn't anticipated the vault. She led him through there and within moments he was surrounded, captured and thrown into this office.

 

Malone spewed some bullshit about not wanting to kill off his rival so soon but Valentine had a strange feeling he was being kept for a less personal cause. Malone probably assumed Valentine had every old case file on his enemies stored up in his head, making him a useful captive in the gang world. Of course, Valentine had never kept case files stored on him; he wasn’t a fucking terminal, but Malone didn’t know that.

 

Perhaps that should've bothered him more but at the end of the day his lack of humanity was keeping him alive. 

 

Unfortunately he was still human enough to experience boredom. He'd never been left with absolutely nothing to do for so long and it was already taking its toll. He supposed he could plug himself into the terminal and run some maintenance on his own programming but he really hated being plugged into a screen like that. Seeing all his files spread out in front of him was always a firm reminder that he wasn't the old Nick. He wasn't anyone at all. Just codes sending commands to a bunch of mechanical limbs. He liked to think he had come to terms with all that long ago but it was a hard feeling to really shake.

 

He also briefly considered just powering himself down. That's probably what he was supposed to do, turn himself off and stay unconscious till he was called upon. The thought appealed to him but he was still afraid to turn himself off like that again. He hadn't done it in almost four years now, not since that night where he'd walked across half of Diamond City in his sleep.

 

His thoughts wandered briefly to the boy who had woken him up, wondering what might've come of him.  _ MacCready _ , yes that was his name. He'd given him a toy soldier as a token of thanks. Valentine had kept it on him since then. The seriousness with which the boy had entrusted it to him had prompted him to keep it in the only place he knew he wouldn't lose it. It was in his wrist, wrapped in cloth and held in place by his wife frame and a thin strip of silicone skin. 

 

He peeled back the faded silicone to confirm that it was still there. He hadn't checked in almost a year, having nearly forgotten the incident, but he could see now that he hadn't lost it. He was proud of himself for that. With his memory getting worse each passing year he had lost a great deal of things. Even his memory of that night was fuzzy. He tried to recall MacCready’s face but could not. It was young, it was afraid, it was desperate, but that was all he knew. The memory was more of a feeling now than a tangible image. 

 

He pushed the skin back into place. The boredom was getting to be more painful than the fear of sleepwalking and he began to think that perhaps a bit of sleep wouldn't hurt. In the very least, he wouldn’t be able to walk very far in this tiny office. He closed his eyes and let systems power down.

 

* * *

 

The vision was shorter than last time. Valentine was waiting for a bus, dressed all in black from the funeral. It was cold that time of year but he refused to put his coat on over his dark suit. His trenchcoat was tan and he didn't want to cover up the fact that he was in mourning.

 

Jenn’s family had been there. They'd always treated him warmly at dinners, thinking he was a fine influence on their daughter. Her mother had found him a little old for her perhaps but her father was exceedingly fond of him. They hadn't spoken to him at the funeral. They hadn't even made eye contact. Perhaps they knew it was his fault she was gone. Or maybe he was just a memory of her, a reminder of what-could-have-been that they were too afraid to face. 

 

A truck drove past Valentine and across the street he caught sight of a distant figure watching him from the alleyway; a man in a pinstripe suit and fedora with a thick cigar hanging from his mouth.

 

It could’ve been any old mobster but Valentine knew, with a certainty that only came from dreams, that it was Winter. Another car zipped by as he sprung to his feet but the man in the alleyway was already walking away from him. He sprinted across the street without regard for the world around him, his vision zeroing in on his target. His hand was already on the hilt of his pistol when he heard the sudden screech of car tires and something slammed into him.

 

He woke up with his face crushed against the wall of the office. The skin at the top of his nose was nicked but he’d done more damage to the wall itself, leaving a sizeable crack in the wood boarding. His internal clock informed him that he's been asleep for almost three days. Well, even if he was still shaken from the dream at least he’d killed some time.

 

As if his wakeup couldn’t have been more unpleasant, he could now see Dino laughing at him through the office window. “Shit Valentine, I hope you ain't gonna make me tell the boss yer brain’s gone all screwy,” the goon said in his usual brain dead tone. 

 

“Well, unfortunately my processors still seem to be working well enough for hear you so I guess I'll just have to hit my head harder next time,” Valentine replied, keeping his face neutral. Dino was the only one who ever visited him and thus he’d become Valentine's only source of entertainment.

 

Dino was not nearly so amused though, his smirk fading to a glare. “We're running out of reasons to be keeping you here, robot boy, if you don't quit with that tone of yer’s I may just have to off ya right here.”

 

Valentine raised an eyebrow, “and fall even further into Malone's bad side? I wouldn't risk it if I were you…”

 

That remark actually made Dino look afraid, “wait what did he tell you? You know something I don't?”

 

Valentine stared at him for a moment, wondering what he could get out of having the upperhand. Probably not anything useful but maybe... “Hm well I might be persuaded to tell you if you'd bring me a pack of cigarettes…” He needed some way to pass the time, after all. 

 

“Like fuck I'm doing that!” Dino snapped back, his face getting redder with each passing moment, “what's a mechanical fuck like you even want with smokes? You can't even taste em!”

 

“Well I'm not damn well going to break out with them,” Valentine pointed out, “come on, Dino, I scratch your back you scratch mine.”

 

“You think you can trick me like that?” He snapped back, “I wasn't born yesterday I know you can make explosives with fire and shit. How about a new deal? You tell me what you fucking know and I don't don't bash in that ugly fucking face of your’s?”

 

Valentine shrugged, “maybe I know you mark your cards. Maybe your boss has started to pick up on it. Maybe there's a bullet in his revolver just itching to blow the brains out of a cheating little shit like you… Oh but if you want definitives you'll have to fork over the cigarettes.”

 

“You idiot robot I don't have to give you shit! You already told me what you know!” Dino was beaming like a child who'd been handed a gold star. Valentine almost felt sorry he'd have to see him go so soon. Almost.

 

“I'm gonna go sort things out with Malone right away,” Dino said, “nice try, driving us apart Valentine but it won't work! Nothing gets passed ol’ Dino!” He turned to go and suddenly a gunshot sounded and his head exploded, caking the window in blood and cerebral fluid. 

 

Well, Valentine certainly hadn't expected that conclusion but he wasn't complaining. 

 

Piper appeared at the window, “miss me Nicky?” She asked with a smirk.

 

Valentine couldn't help beaming slightly back. He'd never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life. “Like you wouldn't believe,” he replied and he really meant it. “But could you save your gloating till after you get this door open?”

 

Piper glanced at the monitor, then turned back to the hallway, “hey Blue, leave Dino’s corpse alone and help me out with this terminal!” 

 

Another woman appeared in the window, squinting at Nick for a brief moment, as if she wasn't sure whether or not her eyes deceived her, then she wandered over to the monitor.

 

“Oh for fucks sake Piper this one isn't even locked!” She said, though her tone was teasing.

 

Piper shrugged, “I told you I'm not much of a techie. Don't worry though, Nick can handle that computer shit from here on out.”

 

At long last, the doors Nick had been staring at for two weeks opened. He felt so relieved he could've kissed the ground, if he wasn't so hell bent on preserving his last remaining shreds of dignity. Piper already had a smug grin as her face as she took in the whole situation. The girl, who he now noticed was wearing a vault suit, was staring at him more in shock than anything else.

 

“Alright Piper, I know you're dying to say it, just let it out,” he said, still unable to completely hide his smile.

 

She had been waiting for him to say that. “Who's the damsel in distress now Mr ‘I-Don't-Need-Piper’s-Help’?” She gloated, doing an upsettingly good impression of Valentine's slightly garbled voice.

 

“Yeah yeah, next time I walk into a trap I'll be sure to bring you along,” he replied with a shake of his head.

 

“That a promise?” She asked and he rolled his eyes.

 

He ignored her. “And who might this be?” Valentine asked, glancing over at the girl in the vault suit.

 

She seemed to snap out of her trance then, giving Valentine a slight nod and introducing herself as “Chase”, before going back to staring at him. 

 

Piper began to try and explain things in greater detail but Valentine held a hand up to silence her, figuring Chase could tell him herself. “So who exactly are you that you would brave a vault full of mobsters and the company Piper Wright just to save an old detective?”

 

“I'm looking for someone,” Chase explained, “but first, you mind telling me what you are?” She leaned back against the wall, still unable to tear her eyes away from him. “I've never seen anyone like you before.”

 

Valentine gave her a queer look. Generally people were able to tell what he was from sight alone. His model had been around longer than the gen 3s so even a vault-dweller should’ve been able to recognize him.

 

“He’s a synth,” Piper answered for him, “Sorry Blue I should’ve mentioned it on the way over,” she put a hand on Chase’s shoulder, a gesture Valentine took note of. 

 

“Synth?” Chase asked, squinting as she tried to make sense of that information.

 

“Jeez, they teach you anything in those vaults?” Valentine said with a laugh.

 

Piper shot him a glare, the most biting expression he’d seen her give in a while. “She’s pre-war, Val!” She explained, as though Valentine should’ve just known that. 

 

Chase looked back at him apologetically while Piper continued to explain the details of her cryogenic storage.

 

What she didn’t know was that Valentine probably empathized with her better than Piper did. He remembered vividly closing his eyes 200 years ago in that CIT building, only to wake trash heap and stumble around like a lost child into this brave new world. And he didn't even get to have a real body. He felt a pull of connectedness with this strange girl, realizing that she was perhaps the first person he’d ever met who’d gone through what he had. 

 

He put a hand on Chase’s shoulder as well and smiled gently at her, “listen kid, I know this is a lot to process but it won't do to have the last pre-war human die in a different vault trying to save an old detective. Let's get out of here before Dino’s friends come back, then we'll discuss your case.”

 

Chase gave him a grateful, if perhaps somewhat artificial, smile. “Do you need a gun?” She asked handing him the submachine gun she'd nabbed off Dino.

 

Valentine accepted it and turned to lead them out through the vault, walking at a slightly quicker pace than he needed to in his excitement to be out of that office. “Stay behind me,” he instructed, “Chase has the best range on her weapon so she can take the furthest enemies and I'll take the closest.” It was a vague plan but it would hopefully save them from going after the same guys.

 

They took out the three triggermen as they rushed through the door, not even giving them the chance to lift their weapons. Piper missed her man but Chase was quick take him out for her.

 

“Shit,” Valentine heard Piper mutter as she fumbled to reload her 10mm. She clearly wanted to prove herself to this newcomer but Valentine could already tell that would be impossible. Chase had the poise and aim of a practiced gunman, most likely a soldier given how comfortably she moved under the heavy weight of her bags, guns, and armour. A city reporter, even in a place as harsh as the Commonwealth, couldn't compete.

 

Still Piper tried her best, her focus glued down the sights of her gun. When they got to the next room she accidentally aimed for Valentine's guy instead of the middle one and although she killed him with two shots to the torso, the man she was supposed to target barely missed her with his own shot.

 

That prompted Valentine to hang back with her while Chase searched the bodies. “Stop aiming down the sights,” he told her. “Your gun doesn't have the accuracy, just go for the torso.”

 

“Then I'd be leaving myself open,” Piper pointed out in a low voice, eying Chase nervously, clearly not wanting her to hear she was struggling.

 

“It doesn't matter, you're bringing up the rear,” Valentine told her.

 

“You want me to hide behind you both the entire time?” Piper snapped angrily.

 

“Yes. If I get shot I won't bleed out and she's armoured. Use your damn head Piper.”

 

Piper frowned and Valentine immediately felt bad for insulting her. He just wanted to keep her safe but that didn’t really excuse it. He put a hand on her shoulder and added in a friendlier tone, “if it makes you feel any better, I think she might've been a soldier so at least you’re not being one-upped by any old pre-war fossil.”

 

She shoved him off playfully, “God you're like dad-level patronizing sometimes.”

 

He just smiled, letting her have the last word. Her pride could be delicate and he didn’t want her to just dismiss his earlier criticism. If it had come from anyone else she likely would've.

 

But she listened to him and his plan worked. It took her more bullets but once she stopped aiming down the sights she could usually get enough good hits into an enemy's torso to knock him down.

 

Neither of them could even begin to compete with Chase though. The vault-dweller moved through the building with an intense, quiet sort of concentration. It was as though she was always in the heat of battle, where her aim was deadliest. She navigated combat with a dancer's grace, managing to keep her eyes on her target while remaining simultaneously well aware of her surroundings.

 

Valentine had to admit he was completely in awe of her as she rolled from the cover of one vault crate to another, pulling her gun out before she was even right-side up and landing a headshot on the first triggerman, then whipping around to take out a guy sneaking up behind Piper. 

 

“Jesus Blue you could've taken my ear off,” Piper said, though she was clearly more impressed than shocked.

 

Chase just grinned at her, “yeah, but I didn’t.” It was the only time she really spoke while they navigated the building. Valentine guessed she just wasn’t much of a talker, though that made her frustratingly difficult to read.

 

Together they made good time to the exit of Malone's hideout. Valentine worked on reprogramming the door vault door lock while Chase and Piper stood behind him, guns raised to shoot, should things go south the moment it opened. Chase could clearly hear as well as Valentine did that there were others waiting for them at the other end.

 

The door slid open and Valentine pulled out his own gun, the three of them now facing Malone, his two bodyguards, and Darla herself.

 

“It's over, Malone, drop your weapon,” Valentine ordered, stepping in front of the two girls. 

 

Malone looked furious, though in a more panicked manner than a dangerous one; he knew he was caught and Valentine got the sense he wouldn't go down quietly. 

 

“Ya ruined a nice little operation here, Valentine,” Malone said bitterly, his fat pink face scrunching up so tightly that it reminded Valentine somewhat of a dying pack brahmin, “too bad for you you're outnumbered. These little lady friends of your’s won't stand a chance against my best men and don't think for a second I'm lettin you live this time. Your busted mechanical corpse is gonna go for a swim in the fuckin swan pond when this is over!”

 

“Face it Malone, you're through,” Valentine replied confidently, “we took down half your guard already and we won't be stopped by this lot either.”

 

Darla opened her mouth to argue with him but was silenced by a shove from Malone before she could speak. Some dreamboat he was. “Agree to disagree then inspector,” Malone said, indicating that this discussion was over. Then he shot at Chase first who ducked quickly out of the way, though at the cost of the bullet hitting but Valentine in the arm. Valentine didn’t mind though; a bit of leaky coolant could be easily fixed with a stimpak later and his arm would work just fine.

 

The other men began to shoot so he dove quickly for the nearest pile of vault crates while Chase shouted to Piper to stay behind the door and shot the nearest guard in the side. From his cover Valentine shot the nearest one in the thigh and Piper finished him off with a shot to the chest. 

 

Malone and his other guy got a few hits into Chase but her armour was sufficient enough to protect her vitals and she barely seemed to register the bullets to her hips and shoulders. She shot Malone in the hand and then got his second guard in the head.

 

Malone was looking more panicked by the second. All of a sudden, he flung himself at Darla, pulling her over in front of him with his bleeding hand and shoving his gun against her head.

 

“All of you fucking stop or she gets it!” Malone snapped, his eyes maniacal. He was sweating buckets now, the blood from his hand dripping into Darla’s dress. 

 

“What the fuck?” Darla screamed, thrashing about to try and escape him, “are you fucking kidding me Skinny!” 

 

Malone pressed the nose of the pistol closer to her temple, “you wanna be the one to tell this bitch’s parents how you let her die, huh Valentine?” He asked, “put your guns down all of you. I'm gonna to walk out of here nice an’ easy an’ if any of you try and stop me I'll make sure you got a real mess to clean up.” 

 

“Let me go right now!” Darla shrieked, looking shocked by her boyfriend’s behavior, “This isn’t funny, I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Valentine almost felt bad for her.

 

“Sorry, babe, I gotta think about myself here,” Malone snarled, not taking his eyes off Valentine, “now lower your weapons.”

 

Valentine couldn't let him kill this girl. Even if Darla had gotten him into this shit in the first place, she was just a kid really. A young woman, lead astray by a smooth talking mob boss and the promise of an easy life. He lowered his weapon and Piper followed suit.

 

“Your guard dog too,” Malone said nodding at Chase.

 

“Come on Chase,” Valentine told her but she didn't seem to notice him. She took a step towards Malone who tightened his grip on the trigger causing Darla to cry out and struggle harder. Valentine wondered what in the hell Chase thought she was doing. Malone was clearly out of options, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot this girl. Let him go free and they would all go free, Darla included.

 

“Don't take another step!” Malone shouted.

 

“You're a real slimeball of a man, you know that?” Chase said in a calm, clear voice. She sounded strange to Valentine like this, the tone of her voice shifting until it sounded completely different from her usually speaking voice, yet she changed it with the ease of a practiced actress. She continued, “The way you’re using Darla like that, after all she's done for you.” Darla and Malone looked as baffled by this as Valentine was. 

 

“This ain't the time for a sermon, lady!” Malone said, “I'm just tryna to live here!”

 

Chase turned to Darla and gave her a sad look, “you don't deserve this,” she said, voice full of sickeningly sweet, artificial sympathy, “I’d club a man for doing that to me…” 

 

Realization suddenly dawned on Valentine. Darla was arms length from a bat lying on the pile of crates next to her. Chase was trying to remind her to use it. It was a risky move; if Darla didn't act quickly Malone might figure it out first and shoot her.

 

Chase gave her head the slightest nod in Darla's direction. The gesture was so subtle that one might've assumed it was just a twitch but Darla’s eyes finally widened in understanding. 

 

Before Malone could even react, Darla let herself fall backwards away from the bullet. She stomped down hard on Malone's foot and snatched the bat. Malone fired his weapon but he was too slow and Darla’s bat smashed against the back of his head with an resonating crack. Malone's neck twisted grotesquely and he fell onto the floor, bleeding from the back of the head. 

 

Valentine didn't even need to check to see if he was dead or not. The amount of blood pooling from the mobsters head told him enough. He slid his gun back into his pocket and wandered over to Darla who had crouched down next to the body in shock. “Would you like a walk home?” He asked.

 

“No thanks,” she muttered, sitting down with her head in her hands, “tell mom and dad I'll be home soon, I just need to…”

 

“Clear your head?” Valentine finished for her. Perhaps it was a poor choice of words.

 

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. Valentine tried to put a hand on her shoulder but she shoved him away with a glare. Well, at least he had successfully completed his case, albeit a couple weeks late. He did genuinely believe Darla would return home.

 

Valentine walked back over to Piper and Chase who began to walk away towards the entrance. He fell into step between them, surprised by how easily they seemed to fit together as a team. “Well, I suppose that could've gone better,” he commented.

 

Chase raised an eyebrow at him, “better? You act as if he was just going to let you take him in quietly. You managed to save the girl and take down his whole operation, I'd say that's a pretty good end to a mission.” Her voice had gone back to its usual sort of passive tone.

 

“I suppose so, it's just a rather disgusting sight, don't you think?” Valentine said glancing over one last time at Malone's mangled corpse. His face was turning purple as the blood around it bruised and his neck had been squashed short so it looked even thicker than it usually did. Valentine thought for a moment he could even see bit of bone sticking out but he decided not to dwell on it. He turned away as they made it to the vault exit. If Malone didn't look like a brahmin corpse before he definitely looked like one now.

 

Chase shrugged “I’d feel worse for that girl. She’s still got to look at it.”

 

“She'll recover,” Piper said, rolling her eyes. Then she added, “Y’know, I really didn't expect her to notice the bat. Hell, I didn't even notice the bat!”

 

“She didn't just notice,” Valentine pointed out, patting Chase on the back “that was some pretty incredible manipulation there, were you some kind of lawyer back in the day?”

 

Chase glanced at the hand on her back curiously and answered, “sort of. I was in school to be one.”

 

Valentine nodded, he could've figured that one out as easily as he'd figured the soldier part out. Chase had a similar secretive and collected manner to her as the lawyers he’d worked with back in the day. There may have been a vacancy to the way in which she spoke but she didn’t seem lost in the general conversation; her inputs were careful and to the point. Valentine hadn't liked lawyers much but but liked that about her, although he still got the strange sense that she was hiding a great number of things from them. She was no liar but she was excellent with nondisclosure. A trait she likely picked up in law school.

 

Piper seemed to like her too, though perhaps in a different way then Valentine did. Valentine didn't exactly want to use the word “thirsty” but that was definitely coming to mind. The way she starred a Chase in complete enamourment made Valentine feel uncomfortably like the third wheel. He quickened his pace almost instinctively to leave the two alone but apparently that wasn’t what Piper wanted, as she followed after him to tap him on the shoulder.

 

“Hey Nick,” she said reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, “figured after two weeks you might want these.”

 

Valentine was so grateful he almost hugged her, but that wasn't in either of their natures so he just smiled, “Glad to see you're always here to indulge my bad habits, aren't you, Wright?”

 

She laughed, “it’s not really a bad habit if you don't have lungs, you ol’ bucket of bolts.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gave him a short side hug, then she frowned looked up at the sky, “the sun’s about to dip past the buildings. Perhaps we should stop for the night.”

 

Valentine agreed with her. The city streets could get rather dangerous at night, especially when his eyes acted like a beacon for any nearby raiders. 

 

“How about that old bus over there?” Chase piped up from behind them. Valentine could tell she'd been watching them with interest. He wondered what she thought of Piper. He wasn't the sort to get involved in other’s romantic lives but some part of him kept secretly hoping that Piper would find someone soon. 

 

She was the sort of girl who was a danger to herself when left to her own devices. Right now he knew the only thing keeping her from marching into a mutant nest in search of the next big story was her responsibility to her sister but now Nat was getting older. Once she grew up, Valentine worried that Piper would wander off into the Commonwealth and never come back. He never told Piper this, of course. They weren't the emotional sort. Still, he made the effort to set her up wherever he could. He guessed that it hadn't worked out with Magnolia, though he'd expected as much. Chase seemed be a better match for her at least; calm enough to keep Piper under control on top of being good with a gun, but then again he still didn't really know much about this vault dweller. 

 

They set up inside the old bus. Chase and Piper laid out their sleeping bags on the seats while Valentine sat down on the steps to keep watch. He always took guard duty, since he didn't need to sleep and didn't want to anyway.. 

 

Even though he was back to sitting alone with his thoughts, he still felt a comfortable sense of freedom at being out of that office. At least here he could see out down the streets of Boston and feel the cool, dusty breeze of the Commonwealth blow through his circuits. Plus he had his cigarettes back. The one he’d taken from Piper was so short now that it started to melt the silicone at the tips of his fingers. There was a noticeable dent between his index and middle finger now from years of the habit but it didn't bother him too much, since it wasn't like he needed the skin. 

 

Sure, it was the hand he used for sex, but that happened so infrequently that he prioritized smoking over that other comfort. He even figured that once that skin melted off completely, he’d probably give up on hookups for good. He wasn't sure why he did them at all, really, not when most people only ever slept with him once just for the sake of saying they’d done it with a synth. He's more of a curiosity to them than an actual partner. He wasn’t sure what motivated him pick up strangers anymore than he knew what motivated him to smoke. Perhaps it's just another habit of the old Nick’s but who could say.

 

Still, some part of him desired sex enough to switch his cigarette to his metal hand and let it shrink further before extinguishing it and lighting a new one.

 

“You need company?” He heard a low voice ask from behind him.

 

Chase sat down next to him and Valentine offered her a cigarette.

 

“No thanks, I managed to quit,” she looked out across the city, her expression nostalgic, “before the war, I mean. Cancer and all that shit.” Then she yawned.

 

“You should sleep,” Valentine told her, “Piper said you two came straight from Diamond City. You must be tired.” 

 

“I'm not,” she told him. She must’ve not planned to sleep from the beginning, having not even bothered to take off her armour, just her helmet. Her hair had been cut short and uneven, like she’d done it herself without a mirror. He wondered how long she’d been in the Commonwealth. She was silent another moment before turning back to him, “actually I think I'll take that cigarette.”

 

He handed her one and lit it for her, although he still asked “what about cancer?”

 

“I just remember I have worse things to give a shit about,” she said taking a drag, “besides, isn't everything out here a carcinogen?”

 

Valentine glanced up at the slight green glow above the buildings, “I guess you're right.” He took a deep drag from his own cigarette and since he had no lungs and the smoke just dissipated out through his neck.

 

She watched this curiously. “So how did a droid– I mean ‘synth’ develop a smoking habit anyway?” She asked.

 

“I assume the man they based my AI off of did,” he explained.

 

“You're based off another man?”

 

Valentine nodded. “Some pre-war cop named Nick Valentine volunteered for a brain scan,” He replied. He didn't really mind divulging this information about himself but people rarely asked. Piper knew and so did Ellie, but that was all. “The institute installed an entire personality and memories into me from him. I guess that makes me unique among synths.”

 

“Unique?” She was looking at him now, her expression not nearly as surprised or horrified as he thought she might be. When he had woken up in the future, hearing about the institute and synths had shocked him, though perhaps that was because it was coupled with the realization that he was one himself.

 

“Most synths are either mindless attack drones or indistinguishable from humans,” he explained, “I'm somewhere in between.”

 

She nodded solemnly but didn't say anything else. They smoked in silence a bit longer before she continued, “so you’re from my time then?”

 

“Yes, in a sense. My memories are,” Valentine tried to distance himself from that old Nick but he didn't blame Chase for not knowing that. 

 

“Do you remember the Boston Public Radio?” She asked, perking up slightly, perhaps at the realization that she wasn’t the only one left out here who remembered that time.

 

“Well, I was technically from Chicago,” Valentine clarified, “but I assume the music was similar.”

 

“They play the same music now, that's the funny thing,” she said, her face lighting up genuinely for the first time since he’d met her as she showed him the Diamond City Radio station on the pip boy, “I used to love this stuff back in the day, the radio I mean. When I was a kid, I used to record my own radio announcements on one of our holotape recorders,” she chuckled slightly at the memory, then added, “I find hearing the radio comforting.”

 

Valentine nodded, although he didn't agree with her about Diamond City Radio. He didn't like hearing the songs. His AI couldn’t remember them right so they made his memories jumble. “I was always more of a news guy,” he tried to explain.

 

“Honestly I couldn't stand the news, it was always more about the war,” she said bitterly, “I was sick to death of the war.”

 

“I thought it was good to know about it though,” Valentine said.

 

“Oh, I knew about it,” she said frowning slightly, “I was in it.”

 

“Yeah?” He wasn't really that surprised.

 

“Six years,” she said, “I volunteered in order to pay for my education.”

 

“Six years? Didn't think they'd let you out so soon.” During that war they usually made people serve longer.

 

“I injured my leg and was given leave, then my wife managed to convince them to make it permanent.”

 

“You're married?” He asked. That was a shocker. She didn’t seem all that old. Besides, he wasn’t entirely certain women could marry during the time he’d left, although he couldn’t really remember details like that too well.

 

“Was,” she clarified, her tone suggesting he shouldn't press her on that. He had no intention of doing so. He figured it was as good a guess as any that she was the only one who’d made it out of those cryp-pods. 

 

Valentine decided to change the subject, “you know, Piper and I keep a couple of pre-war books between us, if you miss that stuff.”

 

She only smiled in response and said,  “you two are cute.”

 

“We're just friends,” he said slowly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

 

“Oh, I know,” she said with a quiet laugh, “I still find it nice. It's hard to find any love like that out here.”

 

“Folks don't care about each other as much as they used to,” Valentine agreed, “but Piper and I try our best to make things better. The Minutemen used to help out but I hear they got more or less wiped out at Quincy.”

 

“Not entirely,” she said, “I ran into a few stragglers by Concord. They're living in Sanctuary now, working on rebuilding. I'm helping them out.”

 

“That's good to hear,” Valentine meant it. He was glad to know Chase wasn't another self-serving vigilante. He was feeling more and more like he was on her side the longer they talked. “Now, since we're talking, what exactly did you need my help with?”

 

“My son,” Chase said in a grave voice. Her expression was blank while she spoke but Valentine could tell this was the root of her distress. “He got kidnapped right in front of me while I was frozen, by a man with a scar on his face.”

 

Valentine knew exactly what sort of man would have the skills and the heartlessness to do something like that, “Kellogg,” he said taking another drag from his cigarette.

 

“You know him?”

 

“Not many people have the same notoriety as he does,” Valentine explained, “Kellogg lived in Diamond City for year and garnered quite a reputation for being a ruthless mercenary. Most of the stories about him were unconfirmed rumours but they say even the Gunners feared him. He stayed in Diamond City for a couple years with a kid, clearly not his own but also not a baby. Still, I can't think of many other men with a scar like that and a reputation for stealing children. Odds are he's our man.”

 

“Well, good to hear you’re as good a detective as Piper says you are,” she said, clearly impressed, “so where should we start?”

 

“They never cleared his house after he left,” Valentine said, “we should search it when we get back to the city.”

 

“And you'll help me?” She asked.

 

Valentine nodded, “I won't stand idly by and let a baby stay in the hands of a mercenary. Besides, I think I owe you one; Piper couldn't have gotten me back on her own.”

 

Chase reached out her hand and he shook it firmly, “I'm glad I did. You're a good man Valentine.”

 

Valentine could've said the same thing but instead he simply nodded his head. As far as he was concerned, Chase seemed like a person worth following, even if that road lead them towards a ruthless killer like Kellogg. Besides, he couldn’t very well leave Piper alone with her, could he?


	5. Chapter 5

Chase lingered by the door to the detective agency while Valentine got himself reacquainted with it. He barely got a few feet through the door before Ellie noticed him and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly.

 

“Jesus Nick, I was certain you'd finally done yourself in!” She scolded.

 

“This brave new world hasn’t got me yet, Ellie,” he said with a soft smile.

 

Chase couldn't help but smile back at the sight. Valentine had that effect on people. He was so genuine that it was easy to look past the glowing eyes and exposed wires.

 

“Nick, I swear to god if you ever make another  _ Brave New World _ reference I'm going to personally dowse you with water!” Piper snapped at him from the doorway, “it wasn't even that great a book!”

 

Valentine slid back down into his office chair and lit another cigarette with a smirk, “now is that any way to treat a man you just nearly sent to his death?”

 

Piper glared at him, “don't try and pin this on me, Nicky, you would've gone even if I'd told you it was in a mutant camp!”

 

Valentine shrugged, “what can I say, I'm dedicated to my job. Now both of you come in and sit down so we can work out a plan for taking out the most high profile mercenary in the Commonwealth.”

 

Chase slid down into the seat across from him and Piper sat on the desk, dispersing a couple documents and causing Valentine to wince.

 

Valentine offered each of them a cigarette. Piper refused but Chase accepted. She knew it was a bad habit but the Commonwealth was cold and the smoke was warm. She'd quit again once they found Shaun, or so she told herself.

 

“Kellogg used to live in a house at the edge of town with a boy of about ten,” Valentine explained, “he fits your description: ruthless man, scar over his face. He was never seen much in town but everyone knew he was a mercenary, and a damn good one at that. Mercs, raiders, even gunners wouldn't try and cross him. I'm not sure why he was given a place in Diamond City at all, or what he was here for, but  McDonough let him stay.”

 

“You know exactly why that slimeball let him stay,” Piper butted in, “missing kid? Kellogg? This is clearly another institute job.”

 

“We don't know that for certain yet,” Valentine said, ignoring her glares, “but it does seem like the most likely scenario. Either way, we will need to find Kellogg first to be sure.”

 

“What exactly is this institute?” Chase asked. She had a vague idea from hearsay, but she figured it was about time she learned more about it.

 

“We don't know much about them,” Valentine explained, “they're a secretive organization, with far better technology than we have down here. They created all synths, including me, only they’ve improved drastically since my prototype and we now know that they can replace humans with perfect synthetic duplicates. At this point in time though, we aren't sure exactly sure why they do it.”

 

“What could they want with a pre-war baby?” Chase asked. The more she dwelled on it the more she just couldn't understand it. Did it have something to do with who his father was? How would they have known that? Did bloodline even really matter 200 years after the world had ended?

 

“Who knows,” Valentine said, “whether we figure it out or not, our main goal right now is to get your kid back. Firstly, we ought to check Kellogg's house. Could be some clues there. The issue is, we would need permission to get in. I could try, since the mayor still owes me a few favours, but after the stunt you two pulled at the gate I would recommend you both stay out of it.”

 

“So we should just sit around then till you finish investigating the house?” Piper asked, making no effort to conceal her disappointment.

 

“Actually, I was thinking of sending you both to Goodneighbor,” Valentine said, “Kellogg was especially well known within mercenary circles. I think you ought to ask a few of them and they tend to congregate in that particular slum.”

 

“Great,” Piper grumbled, “I just got out of that shithole you know!”

 

Valentine raised brow at her, “you spent two weeks there?”

 

Piper bit her lip and Chase could tell she'd revealed something she hadn't meant to, “it took longer than I thought to get the info I needed, okay?” She said. Valentine only nodded noncommittally which made Piper glare at him harder, “whatever you think you've just figured out, inspector, you're wrong! Go focus that robo-brain on trying to find our kidnapper. Blue and I will head down to Goodneighbor.” She grabbed Chase’s arm and pulled her towards the door.

 

“Hurry back ,” Valentine replied cheekily from his desk chair.

 

Piper fumed until they were out of Diamond City, her hand slipping down to grasp Chase’s as she pulled them out of town.

 

“The nerve of him!” Piper seethed, “I save his ass from triggermen and he's still got to be the king of snark! Always got to read you! He doesn't even say anything he just gives you that look! It's infuriating, he doesn't even have real eyes!” With her free hand she gestured wildly to nothing in particular. A few Diamond City security officers stare at them.

 

Chase just giggled. Piper wasn't genuinely angry, just over dramatic. Chase found it entertaining. She wondered what could be so bad about Goodneighbor anyway. “Sorry to interrupt, but would you consider maybe giving me my hand back?” She asked as they got further away from town.

 

Piper froze and let go of her almost too quickly. “Shit, sorry Blue, my bad.”

 

Chase smiled at her, “no problem,  _ Red _ ,” two can play at this game, “I just figured I might need it in case I have to fire a gun.”

 

“Yeah, I know, I'm sorry,” Piper said, looking really flustered. The look was only complimented by the fact that her hair definitely hadn't been washed in a while and she didn't look like she's slept well either. Not that Chase minded; she couldn’t imagine she looked any better herself. “I shouldn't lose my cool like that,” Piper continued, “I missed the guy, I really did, but talking to him makes me feel like I’m having my brain scanned or something.”

 

Chase nodded but said nothing as they started to walk again, heading in the same direction they did last time into downtown Boston. “So what's so bad about Goodneighbor anyway?” Chase asked to make conversation, though her attention was more on the cigarette she’d left on Valentine's desk than what Piper actually had to say. She wished she hadn't left it there but she was also annoyed at herself for slipping so easily back into her old habits.

 

“Well it's not that bad per say,” Piper said, choosing her words carefully, “I mean, Valentine doesn't like it much. He thinks it's corrupt, though personally I don't find it much worse than Diamond City. Basically, their mayor’s a Chem addict and his town will let just about anyone in, whether they're criminals, addicts, mercs, or ghouls. The place is a mess but at least it's an honest one.”

 

Chase sort of understood what she meant. She'd glanced at an issue of  _ Publick Occurrences _ when they'd first arrived in Diamond City and from Piper’s complaints about institute corruption she could understand why a place like Goodneighbor wouldn't seem so bad. Still it didn't explain Piper’s embarrassment over staying in the city. Chase tried to avoid being the sort of person who pried into other’s personal lives but given that they had a long quiet walk ahead of them she decided to ask about it. “But why would Valentine care how long you stayed, anyway?”

 

Piper wrinkled her nose in thought, “he sent me there chasing after Intel for my next story. It took longer than it should've, that's all.”

 

Chase decided not to press her further. They stayed side by side while they walked and Chase could tell Piper was trying to force herself to keep her gaze forward, despite glancing back over at her from time to time. 

 

She didn't want to acknowledge Piper’s obvious crush but the reporter wasn't exactly subtle in her body-language. Chase would be lying if she said she didn't find it a little cute, Piper being rather pretty after all, but Nora was still so fresh in her mind that she couldn’t even consider a new affair. She wondered if she ever would be ready for something like that. She didn’t think so. This new world was so strange and it made her feel like she was trapped in some sort of nightmare. 

 

Dream or not though, she still wanted to kill Kellogg. Her hands tightened on her rifle as she thought about how deeply she yearned to see the man with the scar look at her the way Nora had. She didn’t have time for dwelling on anything else. She quickened her pace.

 

* * *

 

Aside from a few mongrel dogs, the journey was pretty smooth. They arrived into Goodneighbor without a hassle, a couple of drifters giving them only a passing glance as they entered before resuming whatever it was they had been doing. This was the closest Chase had ever seen ghouls since arriving. At first glance they’d shocked her like the ferals had when she'd first encountered them but she quickly grew accustomed to their faces. Their skin may not have been even but it wasn't really horrific either and their eyes didn't unsettle her any more than Valentine’s had. They were just people, after all, though her use of the term “person” had certainly grown looser in this world than it had been before the war.

 

Piper wandered into the first shop to talk to the ghoul at the stand.

 

“Piper? You're back soon,” she commented, “Diamond City finally kick you out?”

 

“Not yet Daisy,” Piper replied, sounding a little too proud of her reputation, “though they damn well tried.”

 

“So what brings you back here?” Daisy asked, giving Chase an odd, slightly judgemental, look.

 

“I'm giving Valentine a hand,” Piper explained, “We're looking for a certain mercenary and thought we'd ask around here.”

 

“Well I haven't seen any mercenaries pass through in a while,” Daisy said, “but there is one living in the Third Rail under Hancock's protection. Young kid named MacCready. I doubt he’s your man but he might know who you’re looking for.” Then she added with a small smile, as though this were some private joke, “You better watch out for his attitude though.”

 

“Thanks Daisy,” Piper said, buying a few boxes of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes before leading Chase towards the Third Rail, eating them while she walked.

 

“Did you see this MacCready guy last time you were here?” Chase asked while they walked.

 

Piper nodded and said between bites, “I think caught a glimpse of him but we never spoke. I know he's staying in the back room though.” She kept her head down as they entered the bar but Chase noticed she did nod awkwardly towards the live singer, who gave her a small smile in return. That made Piper look away and quicken her pace towards the back.

 

As they were entering the room, two rather intimidating men pushed past them angrily on the way out. They walked in to find a young man in a tattered coat watching the other men go with a smug look on his face. 

 

His expression fell when he noticed the newcomers. “Well it seems I'm popular today,” he commented, then, noticing Piper he added, “Miss Wright? I'd heard you left town. Did Magnolia call you back so soon?” 

 

Piper froze at that, her face going redder than Chase had ever seen it go before. Without missing a beat she retorted coldly, “sorry I had a real house to go back to. We don't all get by sucking ghoul dick just to sleep on a bar couch.”

 

MacCready now looked equally pissed. This was a terrible start. Chase elbowed Piper and hissed, “you told me you didn't know him!”

 

“I don't,” Piper said, still glaring at MacCready, “and yet he's already trying to stick his nose where it doesn't belong!”

 

“Says the reporter who came into my room!” MacCready snapped back, “you better have a damn good reason for coming in here!”

 

“Ooh whatchu gonna do MacCready?” Piper teased, “call your sugar daddy down to kick us out?”

 

“Okay, both of you shut up!” Chase said, a splitting pain in her head reminding her that she hadn't slept in several days now. She hadn’t really noticed how young Piper was until now, when she saw her bickering with this merc who couldn’t have been more than a couple years younger than her. The two of them looked like a pair of teenagers, glaring at eachother so petulantly. She half expected Piper to stick her tongue out at him. “Piper if you can't go two seconds without fighting, then go wait outside.”

 

Piper took a deep breath, “fine, sorry,” she said noncommittally. It was the best Chase could hope to get out of her. 

 

She turned her attention back to MacCready, “listen, I don’t care about who fucked who. I'm just looking for someone and I heard you might have some information about where they'd gone to.”

 

MacCready eyed them both suspiciously but finally answered, “ask away, though if I know anything I'll expect payment for my services.” 

 

Piper opened her mouth to argue that but Chase silenced her with another look. “That's fair,” she said. They needed to speak the same language here. Besides she had enough caps, having been meticulous when it came to looting bodies. “I'm looking for a man named Kellogg, a mercenary who was living in Diamond City. I was wondering if you knew anything that could help me find him.”

 

“Kellogg?” MacCready said looking slightly surprised by the question, “of course I know  _ of _ him, everyone in my trade does, but I don't know much beyond his reputation if that's what you're asking.”

 

“Would any other mercenaries in the area know him?” Chase asked.

 

MacCready shook his head, “he worked alone, as far as anyone knows. Rumours say he was with the institute but I don't know for sure. All I know is not even the gunners would try and mess with him.”

 

“Great, so this was a waste of time,” Piper grumbled.

 

Chase didn't even try and correct her attitude, too focused on trying to come up with another plan. “We should ask around town a bit more,” she said, “spend the night if we have to.”

 

“You're not going to find anything,” MacCready insisted, “Kellogg was an absolute mystery to everyone who knew him. Like I said, he worked alone.”

 

“He's got a point,” Piper added, somewhat reluctant to agree with him, “I tried to investigate that guy for a story back when he was living in town. I didn't turn up anything then and I honestly doubt we will now.”

 

Chase frowned, “Piper, if Nick doesn't find anything…” She couldn’t stand to think that she’d run into a dead end so soon.

 

“Listen, Chase, Valentine is the best there is,” Piper tried to assure her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “If anyone could find that kid, it's him. He probably has a plan already! We should just work on getting back to Diamond City before nightfall.”

 

“Did you say Nick Valentine?” MacCready asked rather suddenly.

 

They both turned to look at him. “Yeah, what about him?” Piper said distrustfully.

 

“Oh nothing. I just, I'd heard rumours about a synth detective. Didn't think they were real though,” MacCready was talking slightly faster than he'd had before and Chase could tell she and Piper were both picking up on it. Still, neither of them commented on this. MacCready shoved his hands into his pockets, looking away as if he was thinking about something.

 

Chase decided to leave him to it. “Well, thanks for your help, I guess,” she said, giving him a polite nod, “we should get going.” It couldn't be long till dark.

 

“Wait!” MacCready called back to them, rather suddenly, “are you genuinely planning to try and chase down  _ Kellogg _ with just the three of you?”

 

“Our plans don't concern you,” Piper replied irritably.

 

MacCready barely acknowledged her, looking at Chase as he continued to explain, “you're talking about the most dangerous merc in the entire Commonwealth, a man who might even have the institute backing him! You could be going up against an entire army of synths yet, from the looks of it anyway, you're going in with nothing but an old synth detective and a reporter with a 10mm.” Pipers hand fell to the hilt of her gun instinctively, “If you want to take him down and live to tell about it, you're going to need an extra gun.” He gestured to his own rifle proudly.

 

“Oh jeez!” Piper groaned slapping a hand across her face, “Chase, you can't seriously be thinking about hiring this guy!”

 

Chase was seriously thinking about it. MacCready had a point. Piper wasn't a fighter and Valentine was hardly any better. They needed another person who was good with a gun and who knew how to hold his own in a fight. MacCready wasn't exactly a soldier but Chase liked the look of the sniper he carried with him. Plus he seemed honest for a merc, if perhaps a little ornery. “How much?” She asked, ignoring Piper’s protests.

 

“250 caps.” He said.

 

“I'll give you 100 to accompany us to Diamond City and the rest when we find Kellogg’s hideout,” she negotiated, wanting to make sure she could trust him. 

 

He frowned while he considered the deal. Finally he sighed and nodded, “okay, that's fair. If I don't get the caps the second we find out where Kellogg is though, I'm walking out with my 100.”

 

“Fair enough,” she said, handing him the money. Truthfully, she was doing pretty well on caps at the moment. She'd hoarded enough from the triggermen, plus earned a few from running errands for the Minutemen on the way to Diamond City with Preston.

 

“I can't believe this,” Piper whined, though she was sounding more resigned to the idea, “when he shoots you in the back for the rest of your caps, you'll get none of my pity.”

 

Chase laughed as she started towards the door, “well then maybe we ought to just keep him in the front and let him lead.”

 

“Hell no,” Piper muttered as followed Chase, MacCready laughing along from the rear.

 

Chase didn't have a single doubt in her about hiring MacCready. She had learned over the years to trust her gut instinct and her gut was telling her that they could trust this merc. Sure, perhaps she knew little about him, but it wasn't as though Chase had been honest with anyone herself since she'd gotten here. Secrets didn't make a person untrustworthy, despite what Piper might've believed. They were just part of surviving.

 

Piper could grumble all she wanted but at the end of the day, it was guns that would get them into the institute, not pretty words.

 

They left Goodneighbor quicker than they'd come in, all three of them eager to get out of that city.


	6. Chapter 6

MacCready was already cursing himself up for deciding to go with this vault-dweller. He wasn’t keen on having accepted less than half of what he'd meant to charge, he was already fed up with Piper’s glares, and he really wasn't looking forward to going up against the most ruthless mercenary in the entire Commonwealth. 

 

Was he scared of Kellogg? He was comfortable enough with himself to admit that: yes, he was pretty fucking scared of Kellogg. He'd hung around with men who could've torn deathclaws to shreds with their bare hands but even they would say they'd rather not cross Kellogg. At the end of the day, MacCready really didn't want to die, especially not in the company of an angry reporter and a rather cagey looking soldier in a vault suit.

 

And then there was Valentine. MacCready hadn't forgotten that night. Perhaps he didn't think about it all the time but the memory of his promise always sat somewhere at the back of his mind. He knew he couldn't leave the Commonwealth without Lucy’s soldier and he knew he couldn't get the soldier back until he helped Valentine. Still though, the memory of it gave him a sickening feeling of shame. He felt guilty for having been pardoned by a synth, he felt guilty for acting like a panicked child, and he felt guilty for giving away Lucy’s token. He didn't regret any of it, of course, but he was still ashamed by it. 

 

Plus he was afraid to see Valentine again after all these years. His memory of the night was still fuzzy and he was worried that the synth, with his high tech institute brain, might be able to remember every vivid detail of it, perhaps with a completely different perspective. Maybe what MacCready remembered as pity was actually just resigned anger. Maybe Valentine genuinely thought of him as a thief. If MacCready had just managed to make an honest man out of himself like Valentine had asked him to, then maybe he would've felt better about all this, but at the end of the day he had stim run with the gunners, he was still a merc, and he still hadn't even tried to get Duncan’s cure back. Lucy would've been ashamed if she knew. Valentine as well. They seemed to have the same morals.

 

He was nervous the entire walk through Diamond City. He had never gone back to it, not since that night. He glanced nervously around at the civilians and tightened his grip on his duffle bag. He wanted to hold his rifle but that would've looked suspicious in the middle of town, not that he didn't feel out of place here already.

 

He stayed behind Piper and Chase as they knocked on the door to Valentine's detective agency. The pink neon lights seemed a little tacky to MacCready but they made the place easy to spot. 

 

When the door opened to let them in a large brown dog launched itself out straight at Chase, its tail wagging excitedly. Although she was strong enough to resist the force of one dog, Chase let herself be bowled over so it could more easily reach her face.

 

“Good to see you again too, Dogmeat,” she said with a laugh, rubbing him behind the ear while he licked her happily.

 

“I found him wandering the Diamond City market a day ago,” Valentine said leaning in the doorway, “I think he was looking for you.” 

 

MacCready already felt his guilt rising in his gut. Valentine sounded exactly the same as he had four years ago. He looked the same too, perhaps less frightening in the broad daylight smiling at a dog, though his eyes still glowed just as bright.

 

Valentine finally noticed MacCready, looking at him with interest, “and who's this?” He asked. There was no recognition in his face which surprised MacCready. Was he pretending not to know him or had he simply forgotten? Maybe MacCready had read too much into the whole thing. Maybe Valentine helped out lost teenagers every night and he was nothing special. He mentally kicked himself for overthinking everything.

 

“This is MacCready, he's a hired gun,” Chase explained, “we figured we might need some extra firepower if we end up facing Kellogg.”

 

Valentine nodded, looking away from MacCready and back up to her, “good thinking. If he's backed by the institute we could have quite the fight ahead of us.”

 

“I take it you have a plan then?” Chase asked hopefully, “because we didn't find anything in Goodneighbor.”

 

Again Valentine nodded, “come in, all of you,” he said, leaning back to allow them to pass through the door.

 

MacCready passed him on his way in, meeting his eyes and desperately trying to find any sign that Valentine remembered him but it was impossible. His eyes were simply lights, blank and bright.

 

Valentine shut the door and sat back down at his desk. MacCready slid into the back corner of the room, not wanting to interrupt them. Afterall, he wasn't a friend. This wasn't his fight. All he needed to know was the plan.

 

Valentine picked up a cigar butt gingerly from the table with his metal hand, “I found these in Kellogg's house. The man did a good job of cleaning up any trace of where he might've gone but he left this is a rather unique brand of cigar: Sanfrancisco Sunlights. I haven't seen any since before the war but their smell is distinctive and Kellogg seemed to chain smoke the damn things based on how many I found in his house.” Pre-war? MacCready was curious as to what Valentine meant by that but he figured he'd wait to ask. It wasn't the place or the time.

 

“How does that help us?” Chase asked, scratching Dogmeat behind the ears.

 

Valentine pointed towards Dogmeat, “if Kellogg smokes these things as much as the litter in his home seems to suggest, then he's probably left a pretty potent scent trail from here to wherever he's ended up. Your mutt there had a good enough nose to track you to Diamond City, I have no doubt that he can track these cigar trails too. All we'd have to do is give him the scent and follow him straight to Kellogg.”

 

Chase thought about this, “it's a long shot but it could work,” she said, her face lighting up, “you're a genius Nick.”

 

The synth laughed, “just doing my job. So shall we get going?”

 

“Wait,” MacCready piped up from the corner. The others turned to look at him, Piper glaring hard but he wasn't bothered too much by her anymore. “I know I'm just a hired gun but Kellogg is dangerous. If I'm putting my life on the line I’d like to know why we're hunting this man at all.”

 

Valentine looked at Chase, letting her decide whether or not to tell him. She gave him a nod then turned back to MacCready, “I was trapped in cryogenic storage in vault 111 before the war. A week or so ago I woke up to see Kellogg stealing my son. I need to find him to get him back.”

 

“Well shoot, then we better get going,” MacCready said, trying to smile slightly to look more agreeable. He understood perfectly, more than Chase probably realized. He would've done the same for Duncan in a heartbeat. Still, he expected to be paid for this job. Even good deeds don't come free and the family he'd left Duncan with needed the money to keep paying for his son’s medications. 

 

“Can we head out right away?” Valentine asked.

 

Chase shrugged, “I'm not tired, what about the rest of you.”

 

Piper shook her head, though MacCready thought she looked exhausted. He was tired himself but he wasn't going to be their limiting factor so he also shook his head.

 

Valentine gave all three of them a doubtful look, as if he could tell they were all a bunch of liars, but he said nothing and crouched down in front of Dogmeat to hand him the cigar. The dog gave it a sniff and Chase asked, “can you find it boy?”

 

MacCready doubted that the dog really understood her but he did bark and wander over towards the door, scratching at it with a whine. Valentine opened the door and Dogmeat charged out into the streets of Diamond City. Chase was the first to sprint after him, followed by Piper. MacCready hovered by the door while Valentine locked up before they jogged after the two women.

 

Dogmeat was fast, rushing out the Diamond City gates before MacCready and Valentine even reached the market. Chase seemed to have gained some tireless sort of energy, keeping up with the dog even under the weight of her armour and guns. Valentine and Piper also kept up fine, as were only carrying their pistols along with whatever fit in their jacket pockets. That left MacCready to struggle along behind them with his own bags. Unlike the rest of them, he didn't have a home to just dump his stuff into. He had to carry all his caps, ammo, clothing, and food along with him and it got really heavy really quickly. 

 

They didn't stop until they reached the edges of the city where Dogmeat stopped to sniff at a small abandoned campsite. They had left late in the evening and the sky was already going dark.

 

MacCready had tried his best to catch up but he wasn't a runner. He was out of breath to the point of wheezing by the time they stopped. He didn't even get to have a moment to regulate his breathing before four molerats lept out of the ground at them.

 

“Shit,” MacCready hissed under his breath, too exhausted to correct his own swearing. He was slow to grab his gun, swinging it over his shoulder only after Chase had already shot the mole rat closest to him. Piper shot at one further away, taking out its leg before Valentine finished it off. 

 

MacCready noticed one of the rats creeping up behind Chase. Before she could even turn around he'd put a bullet straight through it's head, then he whipped his rifle around to shoot the last one. Another clean shot through the neck. 

 

MacCready would've normally been proud of his aim but as the rush of battle left him, his exhaustion got the better of him. He dropped his bag, sunk to his knees and just wheezed. He hated when his lungs did this. They were partly why he wasn't a runner.

 

“Jesus MacCready do you have to carry all that shit?” Piper asked, though she seemed almost a tad concerned as she watched him cough.

 

He was mortified that they all had to witness this but he still felt his blood boil at Piper’s comment. “Tell me, Wright,” he hissed between breaths, “did you happen to bring any food? Any water? Ammo? We could be out here for days and I'm pretty damn certain you and Valentine are carrying maybe 10 bullets each? Do either of you have a stimpak?” He was only wheezing harder with each word but he was too angry to stop, “you're lucky I'm here carrying all this shi– crap or you’d all be dead by after, what, maybe a day out here?”

 

Chase walked up to pat him on the back, more pitied by the sight of him than moved by his speech. MacCready shook her off angrily, “I'm fine, I'll be fine!” He snapped. He definitely didn’t need any sympathy from her right now. “If you all are determined to run across the Commonwealth chasing a dog all night then I'll find a way to manage. Throw the rest of our food in a river or something.”

 

“He's got a point,” Valentine pointed out, standing up for him, “we have no idea how long or how far we’ll have to travel still to find Kellogg. We should've waited till morning. Chase, I know for a fact you haven't slept in at least two days and I doubt either of you have eaten yet today. At this rate, you three will be dead by the time we reach Kellogg and I can't allow that. Dogmeat will wait for us if we lag behind so there’s no need to keep this pace.”

 

Piper glared at MacCready, “I don't see why we need to slow down for him. He's being paid to be here. I say he can work or he can leave.”

 

“This isn't about MacCready,” Valentine replied, “this is about all of you having too much pride to admit you're only human! We're a team, MacCready included, and we have to make sure we need all the energy we can get to take on Kellogg.”

 

There was no arguing with him beyond that. Valentine had already begun to set up a proper camp.

 

Regardless of Valentine's insistence though that MacCready was not to blame, he still felt embarrassed by his own weakness. That shame didn't leave him until they had a good fire going and Valentine asked Chase to prepare whatever food she had.

 

“Shit Val,” she said sifting through her bag, “I didn't carry anything. I've got some water and a few stims but no food.”

 

Valentine sighed, his distress more evident with each passing moment, “how much are you carrying MacCready?” He asked sounding desperate.

 

Finally MacCready was able to gloat a little as he pulled three cans of pork and beans out of his pack, “in my line of work we generally are expected to bring our own food. I have about 25 meals in here which should hopefully last us till we find Kellogg.” He handed Chase the cans which she propped up over the fire to heat.

 

“I'll be expecting extra payment for those by the way,” MacCready warned them while the food cooked, “I bought those out of my own pocket. I expect ten caps for each meal I provide.” It was more than they were worth but it wasn’t as though they had another choice. Hunting out here was hard and they could feasibly go days without even running into a bloatfly.

 

Chase fumbled into her pocket and handed him 300 caps, “this is the rest of what you're owed, plus for the food, plus extra if you'd be willing to keep travelling with us after this mission.”

 

MacCready raised an eyebrow, “I didn't think you'd want to keep me. I mean, you three survived this long without me.”

 

Chase laughed, “yeah and look at us!” She said gesturing to their camp, “We didn't even bring food! You've got foresight MacCready. Plus you're an incredible shot. I've never seen such even kills with a rifle at close range.”

 

MacCready couldn't help but smile a bit at that. He always felt a certain amount of prided when people noticed his skills with a gun. He felt tempted to brag further and tell them that he'd taught himself everything he knew, that he'd picked up his first rifle when he was ten and defended Littlelamplight with it for six years without fail. He said nothing though, just smiled. They didn't need to know about all that yet. 

 

He pocketed the caps. He'd give most of them to Daisy to send back to Duncan. He'd have to keep a few for himself to spend on food and ammo but he was always careful to only buy the bare minimum. The rest was for his son.

 

As he sat by the fire stuffing canned beans into his mouth, he thought about Duncan. The boy would be turning six soon. MacCready hadn't seen him since he'd come to the Commonwealth. Over three years now. It was a long time. He wondered if Duncan even remembered him or if Princess and her husband ever told him about his father who sent them caps. Princess probably would. She knew MacCready and she owed him enough favours to treat his kid right. She'd probably have watched Duncan for free if he'd asked her to but MacCready couldn't do that. He didn't want to feel like he was just giving his son away. 

 

Piper stepped in front of him, snapping him out of his thoughts. She placed a duffle bag at his feet, “Chase said I should help you lighten your load. I don't mind carrying some of the food, ammo, and stims if that's okay.”

 

MacCready tried not to look too irritated by her offer, “I don't need any help. It's my stuff and I'll carry it. Besides Valentine said we'd slow our pace.”

 

Piper shrugged, “Chase insists it'll be faster. I mean, Christ MacCready, this bag probably weighs as much as you do! You'll get all this shit back, it's just to make the journey go faster.”

 

He sighed, unable to really correct her on the weight-thing since he knew he skipped most of his meals at this point to save caps. As if he hadn't been thin to begin with. He opened his bag and started transferring some of his stuff into it.

 

Piper watched in silence, picking the bag back up again when he was done, then turning to go without another word. 

 

She came back a few minutes later though with two beers from Chase. She offered one out to MacCready and he took it. He'd promised Lucy he'd try and quit smoking but she'd never minded him drinking as long as he didn't take it too far. He drank slowly, keeping his eyes on the small fire as he watched it burn itself out.

 

Piper spoke first. “Um, listen Mack,” she began slowly.

 

“Don't call me Mack,” MacCready corrected her, “nobody calls me that except Hancock.” Then, realizing that it sounded like a pet name, he added, “and before you jump to that conclusion, he only calls me that because I refuse to tell him my first name. We aren't like that.”

 

“Methinks you doth protest too much,” Piper said with a giggle, “but I'm sorry, I didn't come over her to make cheap jabs at your ghoul fetish. I just wanted to say, I'm sorry I've been an ass okay.”

 

“Funny way to apologize,” MacCready grumbled, wishing Hancock could’ve been more subtle about his crush. As if that man was ever subtle about anything.

 

“Yeah I know, but I mean it, okay,” she insisted, “you saved Chase’s ass out there and you saved us from having to go all the way back into town for food. I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”

 

“We're technically still on the wrong foot, given that you keep bringing up Hancock every goddamn second,” MacCready reminded her, still feeling like the apology was rather forced.

 

“I know,” she said with a sigh, “fuck, I'm bad at this, but I guess what I mean to say is: we're cool, okay? I won't bring up Hancock ever again if you don't bring up Magnolia ever again and we'll try to keep things civil for the sake of ‘the team’ or whatever Val is calling it.” She stuck out her hand. 

 

“Fine. We're cool.” He said, sighing in agreement. It took a lot of Piper’s pride to do that, he could tell. He didn't want to fight anymore either so he took Piper's hand and shook it. It wasn't like he was agreeing to like her, just tolerate her. 

 

He looked around again at their group and thought that they were kind of an odd-looking team but he figured he could make it work. In some strange sort of way, it was better than being alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I finally fixed up my main fandom blog (fuckboyaham.tumblr.com) so it's not a hideous shitposting eyesore so feel free to hmu on there


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